


End of the Line

by ingayder, Irken Scum (Irken_Scum)



Category: Invader Zim
Genre: Angst, Dib is a silver fox and everything is fucked up, F/F, M/M, Multi, Tallest Zim AU, he is like 40 in this tho straight up, if ur not here for beautifully aged dib content get out of my house, post-apocalypse au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-22
Updated: 2020-03-06
Packaged: 2021-02-25 14:35:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 31,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22357885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ingayder/pseuds/ingayder, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Irken_Scum/pseuds/Irken%20Scum
Summary: It had been 20 years since the Earth was destroyed, one cataclysmic event tearing the world apart in the name of the Irken Empire. Since that day, Dib's had to fight for survival among the planets he could hitch-hike from, growing bitter and tired with age.Now, in the company of an intergalactic engineering contracting group he's joined, he finds himself inadvertently headed towards the last planet he's ever wanted to visit--- and he's in for a rather unpleasant surprise from an old "friend."
Relationships: Dib/Zim (Invader Zim), ZaDr - Relationship
Comments: 66
Kudos: 225





	1. The Nightmare Returns

**Author's Note:**

> "but socks, you can't keep using the Enter the Florpus opening for all your fics that need backstories at the beginning!"
> 
> i can, i will, and i must, thanks for coming to my ted talk

When Dib Membrane was a boy, he looked up at space with hope and wonder in his eyes.

Until space looked back.

Invader Zim, evil alien soldier of the Irken Empire, was sent to Earth by his diabolical masters, the Almighty Tallest, to prepare it for the incoming invasion.

For nearly a decade, Dib had kept the alien menace at bay, thwarting every plan that he came up with. As the sole defender of Earth, the only one who could see through Zim’s ruse, it was his sworn duty, after all. Since he was twelve, it’d become a mere fact of life than anything else: he went to school, he did his chores around the house, and he stopped Zim at every turn from getting the advantage on taking over the Earth.

One day, though, things changed.

Zim snapped, and Dib wasn’t able to stop it this time.

It seemed like a last-ditch effort; Zim, in a fit of fury to be seen as not a failure by his leaders, finally put a plan in motion to prove himself worthy of the Empire’s undying praise and appreciation. He made a horrible machine: one that made the earth tremble under the great mechanism’s wrath, made the people of the city flee their homes for their lives, and leave everything Dib knew and loved falling into chaos.

And then, as quickly as it started, it ended.

Not with the quiet victory Dib would have liked to claim, but an eruption of devastation.

The Earth itself crumbled, a drill having reached it’s core and detonated while he tried to put a stop to what he thought was Zim’s true plan.

Within a mere hour, the human race— what of them that hadn’t succumbed to volcanoes, fissures, or tidal waves— were left to see the planet they loved split apart into fragments of itself.

Within mere hours, only a sad cluster of rocks hung in the orbit where the flourishing planet was, the story of Earth never to be heard again.

.

Now, twenty years later, Dib looked at himself in the scrap of filthy mirror hanging in the bathroom he stood in. This was not a future he’d ever imagined for himself: his face was worn and weathered with age, a scruffy beard hung from his chin, and exhausted from the trials he’d faced. He’d managed to escape with Tak’s old ship before it finally collapsed; his father and Gaz had gone somewhere, he’d seen another ship take off and their silhouettes in it’s windows. Even to this day, though, it was hard telling where they had ran to, and no amount of searching found them. He was alone; a fugitive among foreign planets, a skillful smuggler and technician for hire, doing anything he needed to for what little work he could find..

At times like this, trying to collect himself before it was time for him to board a workman’s vessel for his next time, he wasn’t so sure that he should’ve left the planet at all. Maybe it would’ve been easier to die with the rest of the human race.

It was too late for that now, though. There was work to be done, and an indignant, hungry stomach reminded him of that. He left the bathroom at last, and as he fixed his weathered, tattered coat that he’d clung to after all these years, he boarded the ship with many aliens of several strange and fascinating varieties, sitting on the long benches and letting out a sigh as the cruiser lifted off the ground. This was his new monthly routine: the Elarian workers were the most stable income he could get, usually between temporary servitude and construction work. It was the best his work usually got, and he wasn’t about to snub some stability in his life. 

As the captain of the ship spoke, he lifted his tired gaze, thick brows lifting with interest.

“Alright, boys, better do a good job out there, this is one of our biggest clients yet!” The leader of the team, a chitinous man who almost looked like a cricket, announced from where he stood at the front of the benches. “You fellas are gonna eat like kings after we’re done with this one! Next stop: Irk!”

Dib’s blood ran cold.

There was little time given before the employees were marched into the capital. Tall pink buildings looming over them, and the familiar architecture made Dib sick: even the fixtures on the street harkened back to a time when he lost everything, when a faint feeling of trust and annoyed normalcy with the invader was shredded. It got no better when the group was escorted in what appeared to be a capital building: the tall spire towered over the pink, angular buildings surrounding it. 

The elites that escorted them had no concern about the uneasy glances from the few members, and within only moments, they stood in a large room, a wide, arching screen and a platform, as well as two stairwells that curled around a platform. 

Upon it, in red armor, stood a Tallest, one that the elite at the front of the group stood tall and saluted. 

"My Tallest!" He greeted the Irken on the platform "The construction crew from Elara is here for the construction of the new districts."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, sir," The organizer of the group stood proud, before greeting the Tallest with a bow. "I brought you my top-shelf workers! Only the best for the Irken Empire, after all. We'll have your new district up and ready in no time."

The Irken Tallest stood proud, gazing out a window at his Empire, before turning to face the group's head contractor. His attention fell on the insectoid man at the front of the group, and he snapped his fingers, summoning a table-headed service drone with a drink. "Ah yes. Irmur, was it?"

"Yessir!" Irmur stood proudly. "I hope we didn't keep you waiting too long, My Tallest. We hit an asteroid field on the way through, but my folks here are all geared up and ready to get started on whatever you need."

"Very good." The Tallest took a sip of his drink thoughtfully. "We are creating a new network of underground training facilities that will require excavation, construction, and equipment. I trust you have people capable of mechanical engineering work."

"Of course, my good man, all sorts," Irmur assured him, ever-eager. "And those who aren't equipped for the mechanical work are the ones perfectly suited to the lifting! I got all types for everything that you could need."

"Very good." Zim looked them over with interest. True to Irmur’s word, there were many varieties of aliens: most with hands, but one noteworthy, tall one with clawed hands, and a few birdlike ones in the group. Halfway down the line, however, his brows shot up. "...No. There's no way."

When Irmur turned to look to see what the fuss was about, just as the others in the group did, they were met with one of their colleagues faces, paling at the attention.

Dib swallowed thickly, trying to refrain from cracking under pressure, and a terse nod was given. He couldn't speak--- one crack in his voice from shaken nerves would be all it took to give himself away.

Fortunately, always the quickest to react, Irmur perked up, trying to stay upbeat as ever about it. "Oh, him! Isn't that somethin', huh? Pretty sure that's the only human we'll ever see, and I got him on my work crew! What're the odds? They got awfully dexterous lil’ hands."

"Are you aware," the Tallest said, ignoring the organizer’s words, "that Earth was the first planet I ever dominated on my rise to becoming Tallest? Tell me, human. Are you familiar with the name of the Irken who destroyed your planet?"

Dib grit his teeth, the only movement in his demeanor being the shifting of his jaw, before he spoke, firm and bitter. "I didn't know the proper name of the species until after the incident. So no. I'm not familiar.”

"Invader Zim," the Irken said, grinning devilishly. "Now,  _ Tallest _ Zim."

"Congratulations," Dib shot back, flat and cold.

"Congratulations indeed! He's come such a long way," Irmur cut in, desperately trying to ease the tension. "Now, how about we get working, huh? We don't want to waste our Tallest's time, after all, and we've got a lot to do!"

"Very good," Zim agreed, still  _ very  _ smug. "Tenn, my head of infrastructure, will be your point of contact."

A small female Irken stepped forward, taking a short bow, her voice steady and polite. "A pleasure to meet you all."

"Pleasure to meet you, Miss Tenn," Irmur offered a strange, clawed hand to shake. "I look forward to working with you!"

Tenn accepted the handshake without question. "Allow me to show you to your temporary quarters, that you might drop off your luggage, and then we will all proceed to the location of the new training facility."

"Except the human," Zim noted.

_ "Excuse me?" _ Dib froze in his tracks from where he'd started to move along with the group, doing his damndest not to look mortified. 

"What he means to say is---!" Irmur cut him off, laughing nervously. "How--- come he won't be coming with us? You need him for anything in particular? Completely fine if you do, of course!"

"I do," Zim said, casual as he could be. "I want him to work for me on my personal staff, here in the citadel."

"Why is that?" Dib asked, an edge of venom to his tone, despite his active restraint.

A wicked grin crept across Zim's face. "I've taken a shine to you, of course."

Before Dib could say something, though, the look on his face speaking volumes to it being nothing good, Irmur put a hand hastily on his shoulder.

"Well, I mean--- we  _ are _ contracted to do as he asks," Irmur reasoned awkwardly. 

"You're kidding," Dib shot back, quiet and furious. "This isn't what I signed up for!"

"I know it's technically not, but in our work contract with the Empire---!"

"I'll pay your entire company triple." Zim added.

Suddenly the vast majority of the crew had looked back to Dib, frantic and insistent, leaving him crumpling under the intense gazes.

"Unbelievable! You---" Dib seethed at his coworkers, but desperately collected himself, letting out a light breath to try to soothe his nerves. " _ Fine. _ This is fine. I can manage some menial tasks around the capital."

Zim's grin widened. "Good boy. Now run along to your room with Tenn."

"...Ahaha, yes, well," Tenn laughed nervously. "Let's get to those living quarters!"

"Sounds great!" Irmur gave an awkward laugh of his own, trying not to pay too much mind to the look on Dib's face that made it  _ very _ clear of how his blood seemed to boil at that. "Come on, everybody!"

"Excuse me, My Tallest. I'll get your, ah. Assistant. Right back to you," Tenn assured him.

"Of course," Zim said, returning to work without even so much as another glance to the group.

The second they were out of earshot, Dib raked a hand into the side of his greying hair, practically fuming.  _ "Assistant! _ I came here to do mechanical work, not some pet projects because he thinks it's funny that I'm the last of my fucking kind!"

"Hey, hey!" Irmur shot back. "He's paying us triple!  _ Triple! _ How are you gonna turn that down for some paperwork at worst? Goodness  _ gracious, _ Membrane!"

"Paperwork does suck, though," A strange avian with many eyes alien remarked from the side.

"Don't agree with him, Erdie!"

A Vortian scoffed. "Just think of the pay, Membrane. It'll be worth it in the end. It's just for a little bit, right?”

"Kork, don't tell me you don't see the problem with this, either!" Dib shot back.

"Of course I do!" Kork scoffed. "It sucks! I hate this place too. But the money will get you through it. Triple the pay."

"Ugh, I know," Dib sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose. "...I just hope it goes by fast, at least. I hate this place so much already. I never thought I'd have to hear about it again."

"Dude, they're everywhere. You can't avoid 'em," Kork said, lowering her voice. "There's a reason their planet's name literally means 'annoying'."

That had Dib barking a laugh, settling himself immediately when confused glances were shot his way, mumbling back to her. "You're right. I'm gonna need a different name, though. I was thinking about something that starts with a D, just in case Irmur calls me by my first name for once in his life. What do you think?"

"Hmm." Kork pondered that for a moment, before knitting her brows in confusion, shooting him a look. "I don't know any human names!"

"My name is weird, even as far as human names go!" Dib snickered. "What about... Daniel. Dib, Dan, vaguely similar, yeah? So if someone says it, I can just say he misheard, or cut them off."

"Yeah! That sounds good. Doesn’t match  _ great,  _ but it’ll do," Kork agreed.

"Mind passing along the word when I get dragged off?" Dib asked, giving her a gentle nudge. "I'll owe you one."

Kork nodded. "'Course."

"Thanks, Kork. What would I do without you?"

"Die," Kork replied casually.

"Hah! Probably," Dib snickered.

"It's a good thing I love you so much, Dib," Kork teased.

"It is! I count myself lucky every day," Dib teased back, giving her a playful pat to the top of her head.

"You should!" Kork retorted, swatting his hand away jokingly. "Bummer we won't get to work together."

"Ugh, I know. Especially since you've been going on for ages now about how good of an engineer you are. I wanted to see your work!" Dib replied. "But, bean-pole up there would rather ogle me than let me do what I'm good at. Ugh. There is honestly no one in this universe I hate more than him."

"So you do know him."

Ah, shit. "...I do. But I can't get into the details of it while we're still surrounded by people. Last thing I need is word getting out."

"Here we are!" Tenn said, gesturing to the dorm halls. "There's two beds in each room, so decide amongst yourselves who you wish to bunk with."

"Only stipulation is that Honvu and Speen, after the last incident you two had, you aren't allowed to bunk anymore," Irmur remarked. "No bunk fights this time, guys! We're professionals!"

"You're with me, right, 'Dan'?" Kork teased.

"Sure am," Dib rolled his eyes playfully. "As long as you finally got the sleep-bleats under control."

Kork flustered immediately. "Uh! Yeah!"

"Good!" Dib laughed, giving her a nudge. "I'm just giving you hell. It wasn't that big of a deal. Now, the drunk shin-kicking from a couple jobs ago, though---"

"If you don't shut your mouth you'll get another one."

"Excuse me," Tenn murmured, coming up to Dib. "Do you mind if we chat when you have a second?"

"Oh--- sure thing," Dib blinked. Had she overheard too much of them talking? God, he hoped not. "Let me just sit my things in here and I'll be right back."

"Great, thanks," Tenn said, smiling tersely.

Exchanging a subtle look of concern with Kork, Dib put his case of clothes beside his bed, trying desperately not to let his mind wander to anxious places as he returned to the much smaller Irken.

"So, ah," Dib started, tentative. "What did you need me for? Besides heading out to the capital again, I imagine."

Tenn let out a stressed breath. "Why the fuck are you on this planet?"

"Ex...cuse me?" Dib blinked owlishly. "I took a job, I wasn't aware it was going to be here. Irmur doesn't tell us where we're going until we're basically already there."

"You have no idea what kind of danger you're in," Tenn muttered, pacing. "You're Dib Membrane. Everyone in the entire capital knows your name."

"Wait," Dib froze, his face paling immediately. "You know me. But it's been so long, I thought--- no.  _ Shit. _ Irmur said my name. Goddamn it."

"It's--- fine, I don't think Zim caught it," Tenn muttered, "but you are so screwed."

"Not if I lay low and pretend I'm someone else," Dib sighed, frazzled. "I'm older now, and he didn't recognize me, so I'll use that to my advantage. Given the possibility that you don't report me for it. Which, after all is said and done, would be paid for. I'm more than willing to buy your silence to stay alive."

"That's--- not necessary, I just," Tenn took in a breath, and let out a long sigh. "Listen. I know Zim very well. He's--- weird about you."

"Weird how?" Dib furrowed his brows, thoroughly confused.

"I have honestly no idea how to explain it, but he--- still talks about you."

"...Well--- I suppose we were feuding for--- well over a decade. I can't say I'm all too surprised."

"His great adversary," Tenn said. "His foil. The last worthy opponent he ever had. Stuff like that."

"Well, if he was going to regret our fighting ending, maybe he shouldn't have destroyed the planet I called home," Dib grumbled. "It was a miracle I got out of there at all."

"I don't know if 'regret' is the term I would use," Tenn said. "Listen, just--- be careful, okay? Try not to get yourself killed."

"Regret, nostalgia, whatever the hell he wants to call it," Dib scoffed. "I'll be fine. I'm going to keep a low profile, get this work done, and leave before he's any the wiser. I appreciate your help with that."

Tenn sighed. "I shouldn't. He's my boss. And he saved my life. But you're most likely the last of your species. And whether he wants to admit it or not, you... were good for him. At one point. So don't die."

"I'll do my best not to, and if I do, I'll make sure your name stays off it," Dib sighed. "Thank you--- Tenn, right?"

"Yeah, that's me," Tenn replied. "I was assigned to an invasion at the same time as Zim got his fake mission on Earth. I failed, due to the former Tallest sending me a package of defective, hostile SIR units. ...They never came for me. I didn't get rescued from Meekrob until Zim came for me."

"That's... horrible," Dib murmured. "So I imagine he's got your vote of confidence as Tallest, then, huh? Or at least some kind of life-debt."

"He's... actually a pretty good Tallest, all things considered." Tenn murmured, after a moment.

"I'll need to see that to believe it," Dib a light, sarcastic laugh.

"I hope you get to," Tenn replied, a little gentler.

That gave Dib light pause, his indignance falling flat, before he let out a quiet sigh. "...Might as well head out that way, huh?"

"Yeahhhh," Tenn murmured. "Sorry in advance."

"I'll manage," Dib sighed deeply, already exhausted. "Let's just get it over with."


	2. Parade of Indignities

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is no torture truer than menial labor in the presence of someone you hate.

Dib, in his long life, had experienced some tense and uncomfortable silences. Sometimes, someone taking you somewhere had nothing to say to you, or you two didn’t meet eye to eye, and were bound together by necessity.

This was some sort of horrible modge-podge of all those things, and was the most uneasy walk that he’d ever experienced.

Fortunately, the walk didn’t take long, and within minutes, the two of them were back at the same podium as before. This time, it was a relief to have it be  _ distinctly _ less crowded, but the fact that Zim still stood tall upon it did nothing to settle his nerves. There wasn't any way out of this, though.

Tenn wasted little time heading into the audience chamber with Dib in tow, taking a bow before she spoke. "My Tallest, I am here with the human. Everyone else is situated."

"Thank you, Tenn, you are excused," Zim replied.

"So," Dib started as Tenn saw herself out without so much as a moment to wait, tentative and doing his best not to sound frustrated already. He needed to keep as level of a head as possible - if what Tenn had said held true, it was  _ literally _ life or death for him to keep his temper in check. "What's on the agenda first?"

"First," Zim started, "you will go to my office and move the files on my desk to the archives."

"Alright," Dib gave a short nod. File sorting. Mundane office work. He could handle that. "Where is your office, exactly?"

"Down the hall, third door on the left. I'll be here. You'll be passing through." Zim smirked wryly. He was clearly already up to no good.

Dib scrutinized him for a quiet moment. He was tempted to ask about it, though only for a second; he knew better than to think that Zim would tell him if he was up to something. Even before everything had happened, it was a dark chance he would, even over the most mundane things.

So, without further word, Dib headed down that way, watching with interest as the intricate doors of the office slid open at an odd angle. Though he hated being here, the architecture was interesting, if nothing else - a bit of solace from wishing he were dead instead of here. There was work to be done, though, and without further adieu, he stepped inside, bracing himself for whatever that man would've been up to this time.

No amount of bracing could have prepared him for the absolute **mountain** of files piled on the desk, though, stacked well over Dib's head from end to end of the large desk.

And, with a short breath of fury, Dib grabbed a sizeable armful, trying not to let his face flush with sheer anger as he marched back through the audience chamber. He didn't dignify Zim with a glance, but he absolutely felt the Tallests' eyes on him as he worked, not failing to burn at his back every time he came to and from the office.

The work was quiet and diligent, with Zim leering over it the whole time, hailing a table-headed service drone for snacks. And, possibly, someone to watch it with, if he was being especially cruel about it. It was hard to say with him, but the amused stare didn’t exactly instill Dib with hope.

After the fourth trip to and fro, though, Zim finally spoke, his voice cool and collected as ever. "Don't forget to file them alphabetically.”

A nerve was immediately struck. Dib stopped in his tracks, taking in a sharp breath, not looking at him as he spoke. "You didn't say.  _ Anything. _ About alphabetizing in the earlier loads."

"Did I not?" Zim teased, his voice drenched in mock-innocence. "Well, you had best get started now."

"I'm still not done carrying them," Dib muttered, the effort to keep the bitterness from his voice slowly failing. "So, if you'd like your desk clear in a timely manner, I ask for just a few moments more of patience,  _ your Tallness." _

"Well, of course, I wasn't expecting someone of your terribly inefficient species to have it done before the end of the day," Zim sneered, leaning on his hand.

"We'll see about that," Dib scoffed, the jab leaving him finally failing to hold his words, even if it was just something light like this. It'd probably be enough on it's own to make Tenn have a heart attack. "Humans are more efficient than you'd like to think. Maybe it's been so long that you forgot."

"I don't forget."

"Whatever you say."

"Prove me wrong, then. I'll be here," Zim teased, leaning back. "Computer! Clear my schedule."

"But, My Tallest, what about the pilot test judging?" The computer asked, almost sounding dumbfounded at that.

"Let General Skoodge make the call," Zim replied, waving it off. "The only important thing on my list is that Existence Evaluation later this week."

With a computerized sigh, there was a beep before the computer spoke again. "Schedule cleared, My Tallest."

By the time all was said and done, Dib had already gone back to work, disappearing into the archives and bracing himself for hours of work, if the now taller stacks of files, barely supported by the walls he stacked them against, were anything to go off of. 

Against all better judgement, he was not one to be proven wrong on anything reflecting his character or humans as a whole, and that hadn't changed about him in the slightest. If anything, he’d only gotten more stubborn about it with age.

It didn’t take long for Zim to relocate himself to the archive room, deeply amused and very content to watch his new servant begin filing the heavy folders.

Dib worked dutifully for the most part, only muttering to himself to remember the order of things, even with the Irken sitting on the other side of the room looked as though he were practically  _ tickled _ by his tedious work. Hours went by and by, long into the night, and as the exhaustion set in, he found himself at his last half-stack. Take that, Zim.

"Am I able to get some water or something?" Dib remarked from where he sat, glancing back to Zim as he sat down the folder he'd just finished organizing. "Humans die if we dehydrate, you know. And I don't think this would get done especially fast if I died."

"We don't have water on Irk," Zim replied flatly. 

"Anything with any modicum of hydration you can get from it?" Dib asked, furrowing his brows Zim's way, confused and frustrated.

Annoyed at being pressed about it, Zim pressed a button on his wrist bracer. "Have a service drone bring in some juice or something. I don't care what."

"Very professional," Dib muttered under his breath, unthinking, as he rolled his eyes and set back to work.

Zim, however, sat up a bit, raising a brow. "Excuse me?"

"Just saying that I lost my place," Dib replied, ever-casual.

"Oh no, I heard you, I'm just wondering whatever you could possibly mean."

"Not a thing. You know how we humans are. Just saying things sometimes."

"Oh, yes, stupid things. Constantly," Zim said, his tone turning cold. "Sometimes stupid enough to get you killed."

"Well, I can assure you that this didn't mean anything. Definitely nothing worth murder."

"I wonder how much you value your life," Zim sneered, drumming his fingers.

"Well, I'd say any living creature values their life to a decent degree, don't they?" Dib finally looked up and lifted a skeptical brow at the Tallest, ignoring the anxious twisting of his stomach for now.

"I'm the space monster that made your species nearly extinct. And I have no qualms about finishing the job," Zim threatened. "You would do well to learn a bit more respect."

"Maybe so," Dib let out a breath, stress edging on his features. He’d never wanted to relent to Zim, but there was no sense in getting himself killed over a tired, angry remark. "...Apologies, then. I suppose it's a long day's work wearing on my nerves. I'll be done in just a bit."

The air was tense, and the bitterness between the two was palpable. Fortunately, only a moment later, a service drone with a flat piece of metal strapped to his head waddled in, looking stressed. "The juice you requested, my Tallest?" he offered meekly.

The service drone gave Dib pause, his thick brows crumpling in immediate confusion. "...Why does this man have metal on his head? Is he... a table?"

"Yes, he's a table-headed service drone," Zim replied casually. "It is a common profession."

"Do you... not have automated tables?" Dib asked, legitimately perplexed and almost interested, any ounce of sarcasm gone. "With the other tech you all have, I suppose I'm just a little surprised."

"No, we don't," Zim replied coldly. He made it very clear that he didn’t have any ounce of interest in answering questions. "Take your juice, will you? The drone has other things to do."

"Alright! I was just curious," Dib lifted a defensive hand, but took the juice as instructed anyways, offering the service drone a smile tinged with concern. "Sorry for holding you up, but thank you for this."

"Uhh." The drone seemed to fret, as if caught off guard.. "You're... welcome? Um. Excuse me." And without any other remark, baffled, he waddled off.

"...They seem like odd sorts," Dib remarked, taking a sip of his drink, before setting back to work.

"Perhaps," Zim mused, inspecting his claws idly. "Maybe to you."

"Maybe I just don't have the perspective," Dib replied. 

Silence fell as Dib set back to his sorting, the stacks of folders that had already immensely shrinked finally diminishing down to the last few. It was only a matter of twenty more minutes before Dib stood up, stretching his back lightly with a few gentle cracks from hunching over for too long. "Well! There we are. Alphabetized, and the few official copies were organized by date."

Zim, however, had nothing to say about it. Instead, he made a horrified face, looking  _ appalled _ . "What was that AWFUL sound?!"

"Hm?" Dib lifted his brows, surprised, before he put two and two together. Oh. That. He could absolutely subtly get Zim back for threatening him earlier. "Oh, that? When humans sit in one position for too long, our backs lock up. We have to break them back in place. Only takes a few hours to completely heal back and stop being sore, though. Why?"

"That is DISGUSTING." Zim curled his lip. "You people are VILE."

"Perhaps," Dib replied, cool and casual as can be. If he hadn't gotten so good at a poker face over the years, he'd have a shit-eating grin on his face. "Maybe to you."

"No, that is objectively gross," Zim replied.

"It's completely normal for humans," Dib shrugged. "Encouraged, even. Makes your spine heal stronger."

"Every moment I am around you, I feel less and less guilty for killing everything on your planet," Zim remarked, callous. "Alright, on to the next task then. The audience chamber needs to be cleaned."

"Wait, hang on now," Dib cut in, barely having time to process how horrible that statement was, and having skipped straight to indignance. "It's the middle of the night! I was under the impression that I'd get to sleep at some point."

"Mm? Oh, yes. You people do that daily, don't you?" Zim sighed, a bit overdramatic. "Alas."

"Circadian rhythm is hell, but it's not something I can ignore," Dib remarked plainly. "I can see myself out."

"Very well," Zim replied, disappointed. "Report directly to me in the morning."

"Can do," Dib paid no mind to the disappointment, even feeling a little vindicated after it. After threatening his life for him saying something a little off-color? He'd earned that. 

He returned to his room, though, much later than he would've liked to, and passed out nearly the second he hit the bed. 

As the days went by, the work got no less menial or degrading, but it was something that Dib put up with through gritted teeth. Triple pay, he had to tell himself. Maybe a vacation. He was sure he could talk Kork into splitting the cost of a trip out to just relax for once, after all was said and done.

Every day that went by with all this made it more and more difficult to continue reminding himself of that, though.

By the time the second week had come and gone, it was routine. He peeled himself out of bed with the minimum of sleep he could afford, shuffled to get dressed and wake himself up in a timely manner, and prepared himself to go deal with another round of absent-minded, usually degrading work. It was everything from sorting, helping service drones, letting himself be gawked at by researchers, hold drinks; anything and everything Zim could think of to try to pry into his temper, while simultaneously belittling him, he did.

Fortunately, he had these brief moments of respite between shifts with Kork to look forward to, as she hauled herself out of bed to get moving as well. A small break was all he needed to keep his shreds of morale together. 

"Work go okay yesterday?" Dib asked Kork's way, moving over to put his night's clothes back in the small pile by his briefcase, which was growing ever-larger. It wasn’t like he had much time or resources to  _ wash _ his clothes. Thank god for having so many spares. "I heard you guys are finally getting to work on the tech down there. Hopefully it's a little more interesting than my schedule, if nothing else."

"Yeah, it's going," Kork replied with a stifled yawn, stretching gently as she spoke. "It's easy enough for me, since half the tech they use is stolen from Vort anyway."

"Oh, you know? I hadn’t even thought about that," Dib tutted. "If they screw us over towards the end of it, we could absolutely wreck something for them in there, I bet. But, I'm glad it's easy work for now, all ideas of well-deserved sabotage aside."

Kork snickered, lifting an inquisitive brow Dib’s way. "I hear the Tallest has been workin' you like a dog."

"That's one way to put it," Dib grumbled. "It never ends with him! I thought it was just going to be report-carrying or--- I don't know, note-taking or some shit. But it's endless organizing and running around. And the goddamn cleaning, Kork. I'm a glorified maid, at this point."

"Do you like. Get to do anything productive or is it just dumb manual labor?" Kork asked, tossing him a frown.

"I got to fix a door panel yesterday," Dib replied, exasperated. "But that's the closest I have gotten at all to anything vaguely productive. He just gives me difficult tasks and watches me struggle and trudge through it like some sort of sadist."

Kork snorted softly at that, shaking her head. "You poor thing. That big ol' brain, left to waste away while your muscles suffer."

"Ugh, it wouldn't even be so bad if he didn't stand there and comment on it the whole time!" Dib ranted. "Get this. Any time I make a mistake, he almost immediately starts going on about this being why it was so easy to wipe out the humans. By the end of this job, I swear, he's gonna say it when I'm at the end of the rope, I'm gonna snap him in half, and get executed for it. Just you wait."

"Rest in pieces, dude," Kork teased, unworried. "I'll miss ya."

"I'll make sure to bury my money from the job somewhere very dramatic for you to go find, I promise," Dib teased back, before letting out another sigh. "I better get moving, though. I have to go out into the city to grab something before I come on today, and if I keep him waiting for too long, he'll whine like a petulant child about how I took ages, what is he paying me for, so on, so forth. I'll see you tonight, though."

“Ugh, that sucks,” Kork scoffed, but she finally stood, moving to start getting ready for her day of work, as well. "Okay. Later, man!"

And with a small salute, and tugging on his worn jacket, Dib trudged out into the city, bracing himself for another long and unforgiving day.

Little did he know, this day, with the red-violet sun burning above the planet, had so much more in store for him than he ever could have prepared for.


	3. The Trial

When Dib arrived to Zim’s office, it was as it had been before: the room was always much quieter than that of the audience chamber, with only the sounds of the occasional tapping of fingers ringing out from the desk the Tallest sat, seeming like he was idly flipping through something on the tablet he skimmed through, the device suspended in mid-air. 

It was only when Dib came in that he finally lifted his attention up, his furrowed brows lifting, and he finally turned off the tablet, one of his PAK’s arms taking the device and stowing it away. “There you are! About time.”

Dib, exhausted-looking with a sort of satchel over his shoulder and the odd food-parcels inside, was unbothered by the snide remark, sitting the bag down with a breath. "Hey! Got whatever that thing is that you sent for. Not really worried about it. What's the plan for today?"

"We have a very important meeting to attend,” Zim replied, almost seeming too busy to say anything else to him. “I need you to take minutes.”

Dib lifted his brows. Well  _ that _ was new. And here he was, having braced himself for lifting things again. Maybe Zim forgot that he didn't wrap things up yesterday. "Huh. I suppose I can manage that. What sort of meeting is it?"

"It's a trial," Zim replied idly, gathering up his things and pushing what initially seemed like a small metal square across the table, leaving it for Dib to take. “An incredibly important one.”

"For what?" Dib asked, immediately interested, and wasting no time to take the small device that'd unfold into a hologram writing screen when activated. "I imagine some sort of crime, with it being a trial?"

Zim let out a frustrated sigh, finally lifting his gaze again - this time, to glare Dib’s way. "You always have a million questions. What is it with you and the  _ questions _ ?"

"I like to know things," Dib answered, as plainly as possible.

"Well stop." Zim stood, steeling his gaze further. "You'll find out when we get there, because I expect you to pay attention."

"I fully plan to," Dib agreed with little hesitation, largely unbothered by snipping at this point. If he got defensive, it was just something that Zim would pry into later, after all. "I just figured maybe there was a debriefing of some sort, or something of the likes, but I'm not worried about it."

Zim groaned, pressing a hand to his forehead. "Just come on. We have to get to the evaluation theatre."

"Very well," Dib replied, fighting off a snicker at the sheer annoyance. Payback was sweet, even if it came from the worst situation ever. "Lead the way."

Hurrying that way so as not to be late, Zim led Dib along silently through the capital’s halls, down an elevator, and a grand, mechanical door, one that let out to a walkway. There was little time to waste, and Zim let himself into the theatre, hoping for time to settle himself and prepare, only to find it already full, with someone speaking on the sunken stage at the center.

"...And this is why, people of Irk, myself and those in Elite Squadron I-8, ask you to observe this recorded evidence, and see why we have brought the existence of this Invader into question," The Elite who'd been presenting spoke, formal and commanding in tone, gesturing to the screen at the top of the risen platforms, which had started to pull up what almost looked like the final visual evidence one would use at the beginning of a case. How long had these people been in here? 

As he gestured to the screen, though, it didn't take long for him to notice two tall figures that arrived, one unfamiliar and one unfortunately  _ very _ familiar, leaving him immediately snapping into salute. "My Tallest! I wasn't aware that you would be able to make it, so I---"

"Oh-hoh! How interesting!" Zim cut him off, leering over the side of the rails and seething with rage, his face looking like he was barely subduing the urge to march down there and rip the soldier’s head right off his body. "It would seem this event was submitted to my records inaccurately! According to my schedule, which my computer builds directly off of scheduling submissions directly to me, this evaluation was meant to begin now. And so. It.  _ Shall. _ Start over. From the  _ beginning." _

"I---" The Elite floundered. "But the, ah--- trial is moments from completion, my Tallest, and surely none of us would want to waste your time---"

Before he could finish, though, Zim slammed his fist down on the railing hard enough for the whole theatre to feel it. "START.  _ OVER. _ "

"Yes sir!" The Elite immediately snapped back to composure, trying not to look thoroughly panicked, and after fiddling with buttons on his arm-bracer, he cleared his throat, allowing the original images to come back up. "Today's trial is H-845-IJ-3, the Existence Evaluation of Invader Virk. We have received many reports of both mechanical and mental failings on his behalf, which I am forwarding to your podium as we speak, my Tallest, as well as to the display."

True to his word, there were images of the shaken-looking orange Invader who stood down in the theatre: the images displayed defunct PAK legs being restrained with wires while they seemingly poised to strike, crashed cruisers, a written notice to the Empire from another planet of a declaration of war if another Irken was to come, and many similar displays to it.

"As you can see, this Invader is clearly functioning below any level that the Empire would allow," The Elite explained, steadying his voice again. "The destruction of our own soldiers, our infrastructure, and the stability of our missions has been immense, much more-so than has ever been allowed to continue."

As the Elite spoke, Zim flipped through the images on a smaller screen of his own, giving Dib time to take notes of what was being displayed as well as the listed dates on each image.

After a few minutes of tense silence, though, he spoke.

"Elite Invader Hoortz, was it?" Zim asked.

"Yes, my Tallest," Hoortz gave a nod of affirmation and a salute. "Myself and Elite Invader Shunk were the ones who compiled this data."

"And if it is as you claim, and these problems have been 'allowed to continue' outside of reasonable limits, why has it taken this long to bring this information to my attention?" Zim sat down his screen, folding his arms over the railing, his stare unwavering on the other man.

"We--- wanted to have a thorough case, Your Tallness," Hoortz replied, a little caught off guard by that, if the stumbling was anything to go off of. "I know you do not take claims of defection lightly."

"I understand, but your claim that this has been continued to an unreasonable length of time is a bit inappropriate in that case, is it not? This court can only address cases as they appear," Zim said, drumming his fingers on his wrist-bracer idly. "This is also rather suspicious, given that this evaluation was submitted improperly to my itinerary."

"Another issue with our--- timely submission, your Tallness, is the lenience of our general, with all due respect. Hence why I have brought it to trial, and not directly to him," Hoortz floundered a bit. "I apologize for the poor word choice. And--- for the error in submission. I'm still not certain how that happened."

"Interesting. And who is your direct commanding officer? Are you on the same squadron as the accused?"

"I'm in Commanding Officer Fugue's squadron, and was in Virk's squadron until he was recently dismissed, sir."

Zim hummed thoughtfully, then turned, looking to one of the towering machines above them. "Control Brain Akotch."

"Yes, my Tallest," the feminine, computerized voice replied. 

"Permission to cross-examine the accused."

"Granted, my Tallest."

"Keep an eye on my podium, human," Zim ordered, making his way down to the main floor.

"You got it," Dib agreed, watching dutifully as Zim made his way down to the main floor of the theater, all eyes of those in the seats lining the walls on him.

The Invader on trial, Virk, the second he was approached by the Tallest, straightened his back from where he'd crumpled. He was desperate to look proud and poised as the Empire expected, speaking up the second Zim got to him. No matter how he tried to look official, though, the panicked crack in his voice gave him away immediately. "G--- greetings, my Tallest!"

"Invader Virk, how exactly do you care to explain the actions of which you are accused?" Zim asked - there was none of the venom he used when asking questions of Hoortz, though. Instead, it was just a simple, flat, official questioning.

"I---" Virk swallowed thickly. "Well, um, the--- mechanical failures are something I've dealt with since hatchday, my Tallest. My PAK doesn't quite work right. To start off with something. Sometimes it, uh... glitches. And the results of that aren't... always... just smoke? Sometimes I get a stray leg here and there that tries to grab things, but, I've--- gotten that vaguely under control!"

"Do you need assistance getting an appropriate mechanical examination?"

"I... might. We've been so busy lately, with the upcoming invasion schedule, I haven't really... had... time to get a complete examination, just sort of routine look-overs when things happen."

"Have you been unable to afford it?"

"Y... yes, my Tallest. Monies have been tight as of late, since I haven’t been able to finish many jobs"

"I see." Zim contemplated this for a quiet moment, mulling on it before speaking again. "Invader Virk, I have another question for you."

"Yes, my Tallest?" Virk asked, trying not to let on just how anxious he was at that.

Zim stood beside Virk and turned to face the audience, straightening his posture. "Do you feel that you have been harassed, belittled, sabotaged, or degraded by the members of your squadron?"

Virk blinked, almost looking a little bewildered. Had he considered that? A possibility that it wasn't well-deserved jabs due to his malfunctioning? He absolutely hadn't; not until now, at least, and that was written all over his face. "I... I suppose so. A bit. Kindness isn't really... a word that I would call the stuff they did, at the very least."

"Do you feel as though you have been targeted as a result of your height, your financial status, or your mechanical difficulties?"

"Y--- yes, actually!"

"Do you think that your military performance could be significantly improved by a functional PAK and a change of squadron?”

"Absolutely, sir!" Virk agreed brightly. "The only reason I haven't been able to participate in any of the full-scale projects is--- due to the malfunctioning!"

"Then I hereby sentence you to a probation period," Zim replied. "You will receive financial assistance for a comprehensive technical examination for your PAK, and you will be moved to a different position within Commander Fugue's chain of command, specifically his Massive security force. Over the course of the next eight weeks, Fugue will personally oversee your progress. If you do well, you will be removed from probation and allowed to return to active duty. If you do not, we will revisit your evaluation at that time."

Virk looked like he could've cried. "Thank you, my Tallest! I'll be certain not to waste this opportunity!"

"Wait, hang on," Hoortz looked dumbfounded, purple eyes blinking owlishly up to him. "But, your Tallness, this isn't just a PAK issue, if you look at the evidence I've compiled---"

"Is targeted. I will confer with your C.O. on this and NO ONE ELSE," Zim boomed abruptly, venomous. "You insolent fool. You DARE to defy the will of your Tallest?! I have reason to believe that you purposefully altered the schedule for this evaluation. I hold you in contempt of this trial."

"I would never! I just---!" Hoortz retorted defensively. Even despite the arguing, though, he faltered back, standing stiffly and giving a salute. "I--- I will forward this information to my commanding officer, sir. I meant--- no disrespect, sir. Apologies."

"Additionally. You and Invader Shunk are forbidden from contact with Virk," Zim said. "And your entire squadron will be under scrutiny for harassment of other invaders."

"I... harassment? But, my Tallest, surely you can't---"

"I can." Zim loomed over Hoortz menacingly. "And if I find out that the scheduling error was intentional so that you could have a comrade in mechanical crisis executed without my say so, and that you LIED to me about it, it'll be your turn for an existence evaluation. So I suggest you come clean now if that is the case."

"N--- no, sir, I wouldn't do anything of the sort," Hoortz insisted. "I will--- speak with Invader Shunk to make sure that there wasn't some sort of scheduling failing on his behalf, but there wasn't anything of the sort. To--- my awareness, anyhow."

"Good. This case is dismissed," Zim said. "Virk. You are to immediately go to the PAK workshop here at the citadel to see my personal mechanic. Return to my office with your results as soon as you have them."

"Yes, sir!" Virk agreed brightly, and with one final salute, and a moment to wait for his cuffs to be removed, he didn't waste another single moment before he rushed off. There was hardly any time to waste, especially with his second chance at survival.

"And Hoortz, for Irk's sake, if you have concerns like this, report them to Fugue," Zim grumbled, exasperated, finally returning to his podium to collect Dib.

"Y--- yes, my Tallest, of course," Hoortz gave a brisk nod, before heading off, a little bitter but too thoroughly defeated to argue any further. 

Dib, who'd been watching and jotting down notes here and there the entire time, lifted his brows Zim's way, looking thoroughly fascinated by the whole thing. "Wow, that was a lot more clear-cut than I was expecting it to be. Is there anything else that has to be done, or... is that it?"

"That's it." Zim sighed. After a flicker of thought crossed his face, though, he raised a brow to Dib. "You are a mechanic, yes?"

"I am," Dib agreed, immediately proud, even if he tried to keep that quiet. "Been making and repairing ins and odds since I was a young boy. Why?"

"I want you to double check him when he comes back," Zim replied. "Just a cursory check."

That had Dib's brows shooting up almost immediately. "Check... inside his PAK? I mean--- I can do so, absolutely, but I'm not sure if it'll be like anything I've seen before. Do you just want me to make sure that things are... I don't know. Connected properly and such?"

"I'll give you a diagram, but if something is loose,you can reasonably assume it's wrong," Zim replied.

"I think I can manage it with a diagram," Dib agreed, gathering up their few things as they moved to go back to the capital's main building from the way they’d came. "If I may ask... what does a PAK do, function-wise, for you? Is it a sort of extension of yourselves, maybe a life-support? I've never seen anything like it during any of my travels."

"It's a lot of things," Zim answered vaguely.

"It sounds like it," Dib lifted a quizzical brow. "I take it you're not interested in explaining it, huh?"

"Not to you."

"Yeah, I figured as much."

"But," Zim said, pulling up a diagram of a PAK on his tablet-clipboard-thing that he was always toting around, and with a gesture to the side, a notification sound pinged on Dib’s own device. A file sent. "if you prove that you can do this, there might be more interesting work for you."

"More interesting work?" Dib lifted a skeptical brow his way.

"Don't get your hopes up," Zim snipped. "Just make sure that idiot is okay and then we'll talk."

"Alright, alright!" Dib scoffed. "I got it, don't worry."

When they arrived back in Zim's auditorium, it was only another twenty minutes or so of the two settling back in, putting notes and supplies away and finally getting back to that food Dib had brought, before Virk finally made his appearance again, significantly more upbeat than he'd been when he departed from the trial. Still yet, as he hurried up to the podium, he gave a salute, stifling his grin down to a proud smile. 

"My Tallest, the examination is finished! I brought a copy of the results, as Ouron recommended," Virk told him brightly. "I was told to wait for your go-ahead for an appointment, but--- step one is complete!"

"Very good," Zim replied, taking the paper as the small Invader hiked up the stairs and presented it. He made a face the second he started to skim it. "...Virk these results are  _ terrible _ ."

"Yeah! Yeeeeah," Virk trailed off with an awkward laugh. "He said he was surprised it wasn't hanging on by like... one bolt, at this point!"

"Virk, this is  _ so bad _ ." Zim pressed a hand to his face, looking mortified. "Why didn't you let your C.O. know about this  _ years ago?" _

"I, uh," Virk hesitated for a moment, seeming to look for a good answer for that, before grinning awkwardly. "I diiiiiidn't think it was that bad? I mean, yeah, it smoked  _ sometimes, _ but it wasn't anything worth worrying Commanding Officer Fugue about. He's a busy guy!"

Zim groaned. "Did you at least get an emergency tune-up?"

"Well, heeee connected a couple things! That's about it though. Said he wanted your go-ahead first."

"Of course you have my go ahead!!" Zim sighed deeply. "Do you need me to call him or sign something?"

"Probably!"

"Well... I could possibly take a crack at it," Dib offered tentatively. "Save him the walk back."

Zim gave Dib a contemplative look for a long, quiet, then nodded. "Go ahead. But be very.  _ Very _ careful."

"Got it," Dib agreed.

Virk watched him leave to grab a tool kit and a few stools, and once the two of them were seated and Dib figured out to get the PAK to open, he started his slow, careful work. 

"Wow, so you've got a personal mechanic and your own personal  _ mammal _ mechanic?" Virk remarked, idly chatting to soothe his nerves. It'd clearly been a long, long time since his PAK had been worked on. "That's nuts. I never thought about the crazy perks being Tallest must have."

"Don't screw up your probation and maybe you could be Tallest someday," Zim remarked casually.

"What? Pssssh, I---  _ me? _ No way," Virk let out a sheepish laugh. "Me, Tallest? I'm just a dumb little defective guy! I think the Empire would  _ revolt _ before they let me be Tallest! But, I mean, I--- appreciate your vote of confidence, my Tallest."

"You're not defective unless your evaluation says you are," Zim insisted firmly.

"What? But---" Virk furrowed his brows, going to retort, sounding more confused than anything.

"I went through the same evaluation, you know," Zim pointed out.

"Wait--- that's right, I heard about that!" Virk's brows shot up. "You cleared it, right?"

"I did," Zim replied, giving a small, confident nod his way. "And you'll clear yours."

"That's..." Virk let out a deep breath. "Yeah, I got this. I got this!"

"I'm glad you guys have bonded over this, but please, don't shake around," Dib remarked. "I don't want to accidentally pull anything loose."

"Oops, right! Haha, sorry. Don't wanna die."

"Wait,  _ die? _ Hang on---"

"I told you to be careful," Zim said.

"You didn't say it was life or death being careful!" Dib snapped, frazzled.

"It's not my fault that you took on a task you did not understand," Zim replied, still nonchalant.

"It's not my fault you didn't tell me anything about the task!" Dib shot back.

"Aha, hah hah, uh..." Virk let out a nervous laugh. "This guy doesn't know what he's doing in there...?"

"He's a good mechanic," Zim replied calmly. "He hasn't worked with PAKs before, but given that he's an intergalactic engineering contractor, he's used to working on the fly."

"Okay, that's--- yeah, true," Virk let out a sigh. "This is fine. It's cool, it's fine, it's okay, I'm not gonna die."

"So it is life support," Dib murmured.

"Well, kind of," Virk muttered. "It's also just--- me."

_ "You're kidding." _

Zim exhaled in frustration. "I didn't want him to know that."

"Oh, is it like a weird secret thing?" Virk fretted. "Sorry, mammal, I'm lying. I got a track record for it. That's just who I am. Or maybe it's not. I don't know anymore."

"Very convincing," Dib replied flatly. "What the  _ fuck _ is he talking about."

"PAKs contain all of our data," Zim finally elaborated. "We are inherent cyborgs. That's his brain."

"That's..." Dib trailed off, looking like he barely knew what to think. "And I'm essentially doing brain surgery here."

"Yes," Zim replied. "All of his personality, his memories, his ability to perform any bodily function, is all stored in there, along with cybernetic legs, weaponry, and tools."

"Good lord," Dib murmured. "And... what happens if it defects? Does the body just cease to be?"

"Depends on what you mean by defect," Zim said. "But for reference, he can only be disconnected from it for ten minutes before he dies."

"That's why you never see 'em off of us," Virk noted. "Or for real quick repairs! And the occasional weirdo. But we don't talk about those guys. They're nasty."

"That... does sound nasty," Dib made a face. "Well... I've almost got things finished in here, I think. Everything's looking a little more put-together now, at least."

"I'll have you go back for a proper appointment tomorrow," Zim told Virk. “As soon as you’re out, I’ll be sending Ouron a message to clear his schedule.”

"Great! Man, that's--- wow, this is gonna be amazing," Virk let out a content sigh, hopping off the stool once Dib had closed the PAK back up, before turning to face Zim once again. "I can't honestly thank you enough for this, my Tallest. I--- haha, I legitimately owe you my life. I won't let you down."

"Don't get mushy on me, soldier," Zim scolded, although far from harsh in his tone. "Now, off with you. You aren't expected to report for duty today, so get some rest!"

"Yes, sir!" Virk replied brightly with a salute, not too bothered by the light scolding. 

Watching him off, Dib let out a breath of a laugh, focusing on putting his tools away as soon as he was gone. "That one's awfully chipper, huh?"

"He is," Zim grumbled. "He's ridiculous. He reminds me of Skoodge. My general."

"Skoodge?" Dib furrowed his brows. Wait, shit. He wasn't supposed to recognize that name. "...I've heard that name before somewhere."

"Yes, he was mentioned at the trial," Zim muttered, playing around on his tablet idly.

Thank god for that man's impossibly short attention span lasting even after all these years. "I suppose I ought to meet him at some point. ...What are you looking at?"

"I'm reading your minutes," Zim said, his tone flat. "You're a dull writer."

"I didn't have time to make it shine," Dib grumbled. "I wanted to make it thorough."

"What do you think of Hoortz?"

"He definitely scheduled that wrong on purpose. He's a snake and a liar, but with an official polish to it."

Zim nodded with interest, looking contemplative. "I think I'll have him killed."

"He definitely has it coming," Dib noted, very nonchalant about the man's impending death. "Especially after trying to get Invader Virk killed behind your back."

"It's well known that I am lenient when it comes to existence evaluations," Zim replied. "I don't like putting someone down like a dog for something that can be fixed."

"You said you went through one before, right?" Dib lifted a brow his way. "That doesn't surprise me. It's just a shame that some of your officials don't think the same way."

"Yes." Zim continued scrolling. "Alright. I have work for you."

"Alright," Dib agreed, moving to stand. "What's next on the list?"

"I have some more mechanical work for you to do, since you have proven to be fairly adept, but first, I need you to find someone for me," Zim explained. "A mercenary that I want to commission."

"Oh?" Dib lifted his brows, immediately interested. "I suppose I can manage that. Who am I looking for?"

"Her name is Tak," Zim replied, handing over a small device. "Here. Follow this guidance device to her location."

Oh, shit. Of all people, it had to be her? Dib hadn’t seen her since her altercation with Zim, and her attempt to destroy the planet. He’d argued and wrestled with her ship for trying to get it any degree of usable for  _ so _ many years, sure, but someone’s personality programmed into a ship was hardly a comparison for the person themselves. And, considering how  _ livid _ the ship was for being stolen, he could only imagine that she was going to be on a similar train of thought. All he could do was hope that, perhaps, age had changed him enough to keep her from noticing who he was - it was enough to fool Zim, of course, but  _ observant  _ exactly a word he’d use to describe the Irken on a good day. 

"Alright, understood,” Dib replied, regardless of how fried his nerves were. This would be fine. He could handle this. “Is this about what I think it is?"

"Probably," Zim waved him off. "Now go. She doesn’t answer if you show up too late."

"Alright, I'm on it." 

With a weary sigh and a glance down at the guidance device, Dib left the citadel and made his way into the capital. He was glad for the walk, to be honest. He had a lot to think about.


	4. The Hideous Old "Friend"

The walk was a longer one than Dib had anticipated, but he kept on track, following the strange GPS that’d been given to him. As he went along, he found that he was actually  _ leaving _ not only the Citadel’s city limits, itself, but the capital entirely. The scenery changed slowly: there were less passerbys, fewer open buildings, and before too long, he found himself surrounded by dilapidated homes, businesses closed with sheets of deep red metal, garbage littered about. A place seemingly forgotten by the rest of the city.

If Zim was sending him out here to get killed, this was going to be the most underhanded, stupid bullshi---

_ Beep! Beep! Beep! _

The device’s chimes rang out, and pulling himself out of thought, he finally got a better look at it from where he’d entirely zoned out. It was just one left turn, and he was there.

Instead of what even looked remotely like a home, though, he found himself at a nearly-dilapidated building that looked completely empty. Was the device wrong? Had he been given the wrong coordinates? He wasn't sure. He wouldn't have put it past Zim to make a mistake like that, a bitter thought remarked. But, he and a job to do, and tentatively lifting his hand, he knocked on the door anyways, left to wait awkwardly and mulling over the possibility that he was standing in the middle of nowhere looking like an idiot.

Before he could fully consider heading back and telling Zim that he’d wasted his time, though, the door finally cracked open. The figure inside was obscured by shadows of the dark home, but purple eyes squinted after taking in the sight of the visitor for a moment. "...Ugh, for Irk’s sake."

"Just--- here to deliver a message," Dib muttered, immediately raising a defensive hand. "From your Tallest?"

Throwing the door open and leaving Dib taking an instinctive step back, Tak appeared from behind its shadow. She was slightly taller and clad in quite a bit more black than before, and a scar down the side of her face ran in a jagged line. It looked like she’d seen better days. Regardless, though, she scowled up at him, her curled antennae turned backwards, only adding to the furious body language she wore as she pointed an accusatory finger at him. 

"You're a human” Tak sneered. “One of those smelly, revolting monstrosities from the planet Zim blew up. I would recognize your kind anywhere."

"I--- well, yes, I sure am," Dib waffled a bit in surprise, having to fight off the urge to step a step back one more time and put some more distance between the two of them. "Last of my kind, to my awareness."

"There's only one of you left and it had to be you. I know who you are," Tak snapped, taking one more step forward, only to jab her pointed finger into his chest. "You're that sniveling little whelp that stole my ship."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Dib lied coolly. "I've never even properly seen an Irken vessel I made it to this job. Now, about that message---"

"Oh, please, Dib,” Tak cut him off sharply. “Do you honestly think I didn't have a security camera in my voot runner transmitting footage to me?"

Dib tensed for a long, quiet moment, before letting out a stressed sigh. "Oh, goddamn it. How long did you have that footage rolling?"

"Anytime my ship was being piloted," Tak replied flatly. "Your sister was a talented pilot, by the way. Shame about her."

"You'd do well not to talk about her," Dib snapped, anger immediately sparked at that, but he fought to settle his nerves immediately. "But that's beside the point. If you saw me piloting your ship, is there a reason you haven't told Zim?"

"Because I don't care. Zim's bizarre obsession with you is none of my concern," Tak replied dryly.

"I suppose I owe you a favor for not getting me killed, then," Dib muttered. "...And. Well, once this job is finished, probably some payment for your ship."

"So, who does my Tallest want killed this time?" Tak put her hands on her hips.

"Believe he's an Elite Invader," Dib replied. "Hoortz, if you're familiar with him?"

"That useless layabout got Elite status?" Tak scoffed. "Consider him dead. What did he do?"

"He tried to get an Invader with some mechanical problems killed in an evaluation exam," Dib explained. "Put in the time for the trial wrong to avoid Zim being there and everything."

"Oh, well, isn't that conniving! Perhaps he is Elite material," Tak jeered. "No matter. This does mean that you are my witness, of course."

"A witness to you... accepting the job?" Dib furrowed his brows, immediately confused.

"No, idiot. To me performing it."

“Excuse me?”

“I didn’t stutter. You’ve got a functional brain in that skull, don’t you?”

"Yes! I just--- I wasn't told anything about that."

"Of course not," Tak said, sighing. "When a hit is performed for the Tallest, it is customary that they send a trusted drone along as a witness to report the job as having been carried out. Once he is dead, you will verify that he is dead and report it to Zim. Then he is guaranteed legitimate service and I am guaranteed pay."

"Wow, would've been great to get myself ready for that on the way here," Dib grumbled. "Don't see what choice I've got on the matter, though."

"If Zim wants his dirty work done, then no," Tak said, unconcerned, heading behind her house. Behind the building was a small, beaten garage with a hovercraft of sorts inside. Big enough for two. "In you go."

Dib glanced around as they went behind the house, and as instructed, he got into the hovercraft, letting out a stressed breath. "You plan on making it quick?"

"Is your stomach that weak, Membrane?" Tak sneered.

"No, I’ve just seen enough horrific shit in my life. If there's any way we can avoid assassination turning into torture, I'd appreciate it," Dib muttered.

"How dull," Tak rolled her eyes. "If we must! I hate when witnesses sap the fun out of jobs."

"I'm sure you'll manage," Dib scoffed quietly.

"I'll always manage, I'll just complain the entire time," Tak warned.

"Yeah, that somehow doesn't surprise me."

"Whatever." 

Without further delay, Tak put the small ship in gear and sped off toward her destination--- a military bunker. With a cloaking device activated, the ship was left behind at an unoccupied corner of the building, the two making their way to an unguarded door on the next side of the building, Tak waving him along and muttering to him as they got ready. "Well. I am at least going to spy on the little worm for a bit. Zim might pay better for evidence of his insubordination."

"You know, that might not be a half-bad idea," Dib agreed quietly, stepping out and getting a good look around. "Maybe see if anyone else is on board with all that."

“Exactly. More headcount with evidence of treason, more pay.”

Activating a cloaking device to be shared shared between the two and expertly-used shadows, the two snuck silently into the small base, sticking to walls and listening closely. When a hall turned up empty, they followed the wall to the next, and repeated. 

Fortunately for them, it wasn't hard to find the ones in question: Hoortz angrily paced, seeming to be griping to Shunk, the other elite who he'd mentioned.

And, drawing close to the doorframe, the two listened closely.

"This is absurd!" Hoortz threw up his arms, exasperated, turning and stopping his pacing to gesture overdramatically at the other Elite. "This happens every time there's a case for a defective! That was one of the things Red and Purple dealt with right, ugh. Can you believe this?"

"I can't believe he made you start over," Shunk muttered. "Your case was flawless. And he was onto you about the schedule too. Ugh. Now that filthy little cockroach is just going to keep.  _ Living." _

"I know!" Hoortz scoffed. "I can't believe people are putting up with this! If I had half a mind to lose my job, I'd go take out the little weasel myself. I don't gotta do anything, though. It'll probably just be a few weeks before he's back on that podium. And maybe, just maybe, our Tallest will actually believe it if he blows something up right in front of his face! Or maybe we'll get a Tallest who will get rid of him, if the explosion's close enough."

"Tallest Zim may be formidable but he is a ridiculous idiot. He's probably defective himself, knowing that guy," Shunk remarked.

"Oooh, lucky me," Finally came Tak’s voice, the cloaking device finally fading as she took a step into the room. "A two for one deal! This will be quite the paycheck. Thank you so much."

"Wh--- is that---" Shunk turned around, seeing her and paling. "Tak?!"

"Sleep tight, darling," she said patronizingly, placing a bullet between his eyes without so much as a moment of thought. "And now it's your turn."

"Oh no, no no no," Hoortz sputtered, stumbling back to the other side of the room. "Listen--- listen! Surely you must see how ridiculous this all is, Tak!"

"What I see is monies, Hoortz. And you always were a slacker," she said. "But feel free to continue to beg."

"I'll pay you off to just let me go!" Hoortz insisted. "Whatever he's paying, I'll--- find a way to double it! I swear!"

"I've already doubled it by taking out Shunk," Tak sneered, enjoying his sniveling. "Last try."

"I'll double that!" Hoortz pled. "And--- I'll--- I know of more traitors to the Empire among the Elite ranks! I'll give you their names!"

Tak grinned. "Liar."

"It's true!" Hoortz assured her desperately. "Elite Bir and Skeez! They've been forcing others to finish their work, and receiving pay for it! Elite Kolf killed a trainee in a gluked-out scuffle and has been paying off the witnesses for it! See? Those are legitimate!"

"Thank you for the information” Tak replied, her tone flat and uncaring. “Goodbye." 

And without letting him get in another word, she placed a bullet in his skull, watching his body drop to the floor almost instantly with a sad thunk.

"Wow," Dib let out an impressed whistle, finally stepping away from the wall, where he'd opted to stick out of the way. "You really got a lot out of that guy! I gotta say, I'm impressed!"

"Yes," Tak agreed, gesturing vaguely his way as she took a better look at her fallen targets. "Use that device to snap some pictures and I'll drop you off at the citadel."

Not wasting a moment, he took a few photos, making sure to get both bodies of the fallen Irkens in each shot. Once he was satisfied with the photos, he stowed the device, following her out the door as soon as she moved that way. "I think these are good enough! I guess you've got a busy few days of work ahead of you, huh?"

"If Zim takes an interest in the reports of a dying fool," Tak replied, holstering her gun. "Let's move on."

"Right behind you," Dib agreed. He was eager to get back to even a vague place of calm after that. At least somewhere with less corpses, if nothing else.

With a mostly quiet ride back, Tak returned Dib to the capital, stopping at the citadel's steps and pressing a button, leaving the door to the hovercraft opening on Dib’s side. "Out you go. I'm not going in, just have Zim wire me the monies, as usual. I will be sending audio files of Hoortz's ramblings."

"Alright, sounds good," Dib got out of the hovercraft, straightening his coat the second he was out. After a short moment, though, he paused, furrowing his brows and tossing Tak a confused look"Why don't you come in? Is that... some part of the mercenary thing? A work code, or something of the sort?"

"No, I just fucking hate him," Tak replied, nonchalant. "Ta-ta."

“Ah. Right. See you around, then.”

Watching her off for only a moment, Dib climbed the stairs again, and started making his way back. The smaller office Zim had, as opposed to the audience chamber, was deeper inside, leaving him with a fairly long walk. By the time he’d had time to navigate his way through the winding halls, he’d had time to finally process everything that’d happened.

By the time he found himself in the Tallest's office, Dib found himself bristling a bit. He'd defaulted to a sort of work-mode during the whole affair, but now that he had time to think about it? He was absolutely furious.

"Hey! What the hell, Zim!?" Dib demanded, stepping inside without any hesitation, too caught up in his sparks of anger to treat the situation with any gentler approach. "The job's done, but why didn't you take a  _ second _ to tell me about having to be a fucking  _ witness _ to an assassination?!"

"First of all, you will not address me by my first name. You are to call me 'my Tallest' or 'sir' and nothing else," Zim barked, sitting upright from where he’d been working. "And second of all, I don't have to tell you anything."

"If I'm working for you, one could expect to be given details of their job!" Dib snapped back. "Maybe it's par of the course for you, considering you do whatever you damn well please anyways, but if it's possible, a warning about seeing the impending death of two soldiers would make things a hell of a lot smoother, don't you think!?"

"You will watch your TONGUE, HUMAN, IF YOU WANT TO KEEP IT," Zim boomed, finally rising from his seat.

"No, this is RIDICULOUS!" Dib barked, gesturing angrily, his temper ramping up further and further with every passing second. "I'M A PROFESSIONAL MECHANIC, GODDAMN IT! I'VE BEEN PUTTING UP WITH THIS WHIPPING-BOY NONSENSE FOR WEEKS BECAUSE YOU THINK IT'S FUNNY, THINKING THAT IT'D BE WORTH IT FOR THE MONEY, BUT IT'S GONE TOO FAR THIS TIME!"

It only took a moment for Zim to draw closer during Dib’s tangent, and without an ounce of hesitation, he slammed his hand to Dib's throat, grasping it sharply. "Raise your voice to me one more time, and you lose it," he threatened.

Dib let out a pained hiss, his hands shooting up to firmly dig into the clawed one that held his throat, but he snarled nonetheless, venom practically dripping from his tone. "Fucking try me, Zim."

Zim's eyes met Dib's, and at first, it was a hard stare. At the burning connection of their eyes, though, something hungry awoke in him. He moved closer, gauging.

Dib stared back, his heart pounding in his chest. He was livid--- he felt like a caged animal--- but something in that look stirred something inside him. Something nameless that he hadn't felt in a long time, feeling odd as it was stirred into the outrage he’d fallen into.

When Zim moved closer, a look between the two of them spoke volumes that whatever that was, it was shared. One of the few things the two could agree on anymore.

And Dib didn't waste another moment before he took one of his hands, catching one of the creases of Zim's armor, and clashing his lips into Zim's own with a rough, fiery kiss.

Heat rose in Zim's face. Unable to help himself, Zim kissed back just as roughly, pushing Dib up against his desk.

A grunt escaped Dib when he hit the desk, his face red and his mind racing. If he had time to pick apart his racing thoughts, he might've had a moment to ask himself about what the fuck he was doing, but instead, he kept close, keyed-up, hazy, and struck with a need that he hadn't felt in what felt like a long time. He was too wrapped up in the moment to even so much as think about it, or care, for that matter.

Sitting Dib on the desk, Zim pressed his narrow hips between Dib's legs. He envisioned a younger man. A man he used to know, used to love, used to dream about. He had no idea he was kissing the same man, but god, he tasted the same. Grinding his hips a bit, he growled and shoved his tongue into the human's mouth. Zim hated this stranger for not being his Dib.

He felt disgusted.

Dib's head swam, especially as the strange, foreign tongue barged into his mouth. This was something that, so many years ago, would have boggled his mind. Left him breathless. Maybe even made him cry, if he didn't let his pride state contrary. But feelings of old hurt muddled with the anger and passion that burned in between the two. A quiet wish in the back of his mind that was desperate for this, but for it to be at a different place, a different time, both the place and time long since lost into nothingness. 

This was what he had now, though. There was no going back to before; they were older, angrier, colder, and Dib wasn't about to turn this down for something that seemed impossibly out of reach. And, with a pull forward from where he held onto Zim's armor, he hooked his legs around the other man, desperate for closeness without even realizing he was.

Before too long, though, on Zim’s end, the thoughts became too much. The touches were overwhelming. He felt like he was going to retch. 

Not my Dib.

Just some jackass with the same bad attitude. 

Zim shoved Dib away abruptly, turning his back on the other man. "Disgusting."

"Wh---" Dib was bewildered at being left alone so suddenly on the desk, the jarring change in amounts of contact leaving him caught off guard, embarrassed, angry, and some part of the back of his mind was thoroughly upset about it. He'd let the confusion and anger override that part for now. "What? But you started i----"

Zim turned to him sharply, now snarling, and furiously gesturing to the door on the other side of the room. "GET OUT OF MY OFFICE."

"Christ! Alright!" Dib got off the desk, straightening out his coat, his thick brows furrowed and his face thoroughly red with embarrassment. He was mortified. What was he thinking? He had no idea how he was going to show his face here again, much less come back to work the next morning and try to act as though nothing happened.

"Human," Zim said before he could leave.

"What is it?" Dib stopped, letting out a short breath to try to soothe his nerves, before turning around.

"What is your name?" Zim asked. A simple question, having gone so long without being brought up.

"...Daniel," Dib lied, quieter this time. "Daniel McNeely."

"Mm." Zim frowned. He looked almost... contemplative. "Have you ever heard the name Dib Membrane?"

"I... well," Dib pursed his lips gently. "I've... heard the Membrane name before, that's for sure. ...You knew him?"

"I did," Zim replied. "You may go. I will call for you tomorrow."

"Alright," Dib let out a breath. Some part of him wanted to linger, but he pushed past that. There was no reason to stay here "I'll... see you tomorrow, then."

"Very well." Zim sat back down at his desk, head in his hands. He looked... broken.

Watching for one last moment, Dib turned to leave the citadel, something in his chest feeling like it crumpled. 

That didn't look like the face of a man who's "greatest enemy" died in an apocalypse of his own creation. He didn't even remotely look like he was pleased about the fact that he'd ended up here, with the triumph he'd always sought over the years, the victory he’d been so desperate for.

There was nothing Dib could do, though, except slink back to his bunk, filled with an odd remorse and shame for letting himself get so swept up, opting to just sleep it off as best as his ages-old insomnia would let him. 

All there was for it was to try to forget.


	5. The One-Night Stand of Doom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> brief warning: this chapter contains NSFW content! there's ample lead up to it, but for those of you who don't want to see it, i'll be putting a ^ after it! that way, when it starts getting to that direction, if you just CTRL+F (or whatever it is on Macs, idk) and search for it, it'll skip you afterwards to the rest of the chapter!

Before Dib could doze off for too terribly long (which may have been for the better, all things considered), Kork had made her appearance, back from work. Unseen by him, she’d been a little surprised, brows lifted at his sleeping body in the bed before she was even back to their barracks. 

She hadn’t woken him up until she was settled in her bed, with a bag of chips by her side and her tablet pulled out of her travel bag. Once she’d contemplated if she should, though, she spoke up, calling over to him. “Hey! What’s got you off early?”

A muffled, half-awake groan in response.

  
  
“Come on, it’s like… 6PM. Wake up, jackass.”

“Mmmgh, alright, alright.”

With a grunt, Dib sat up, grabbing for his glasses and putting them on haphazardly as he pulled himself back awake. Regardless, though, he offered her a smile--- even if it was a weak one, it was never a bad thing for her to be around. She had always done a number for his low moods. “You off early, too?”

“Just a half an hour,” Kork remarked with a shrug, tossing a chip into her mouth. “I’m surprised that  _ you’re _ out early! He usually lets you out at what? Like, eight, or something?”

"Well, here I am, at six. There's a first time for everything, isn’t there?" Dib gave a tired chuckle, sounding more drained than he would've cared to as he moved to sit back against the wall. "I'm glad you're here. Today's been absolute hell, Kork. I was gearing up to just go to bed and stay down for the night the second I got in here, if I'm being completely honest."

"Wanna bitch about it? You got your bitchin' face on," Kork remarked, finally sitting her tablet aside.

"Only if you wanna hear me bitch," Dib replied. "It involves government-sanctioned murder."

"Oooh, zesty. Tell me more."

"So, first thing's first, I took notes for an 'existence evaluation' trial," Dib started, letting his gaze fall to the side as he recalled everything that’d happened. "Watched a guy almost die. He didn't--- instead, I wound up fixing his PAK, which was bizarre, let me tell you. You ever seen what goes on in there? It's fucked up."

"Dude, that's their brain," Kork said, shoving a handful of chips into her mouth as she spoke

"It is! I did brain surgery today!" Dib agreed, sounding blown-away still. "And then, apparently, he was getting picked on by some higher-in-commands for being a little messed up, and they purposefully tried to get him killed, so I had to go witness a straight-up assassination. Two of them, specifically."

"Brooooo," Kork cooed, impressed. "That's a little badass though."

"It would've been more badass if I had gotten any warning," Dib sighed. "I was thrown into it just... out of the blue, really."

"Rude." Kork shrugged. "Well, at least they deserved it. "

"Yeah," Dib sighed. "Well, regardless, I got pissed off about it, couldn't reel in my temper, and gave the Tallest a few words about it."

"Oh, fuck, dude, and you're alive?!" Kork sat up immediately, pink eyes wide with shock. "What happened??"

"I am! To my awareness, for better or worse," Dib gave a huff of a bitter laugh. "We had a screaming match, and--- well. After... all that, he just sent me back here."

"No way," Kork teased. "There is no way he just let you off. What'd you do, suck his dick?"

"What? Jesus Christ, no!" Dib scoffed, but the red that rose to his face spoke to a different story. "God, Kork. Why's that always the first thing you go to when I get myself out of tight situations?"

"I was joking," Kork said. "Defensive much?

"It starts to feel less like a joke and more like you think I'm giving rampant across-the-universe head every time I get caught in a mess," Dib remarked, rolling his eyes.

"Dude, chill out," Kork laughed. "Where's your sense of humor? And you're all red! You didn't  _ actually _ give the guy head, did you?"

Dib was quiet for a moment, before he let out a long, deep sigh, pressing his face into his hands. "I honestly have no idea how it happened, but I made out with that man mid-argument."

Kork's jaw hit the floor. "Holy SHIT, you absolute stud!"

"It just  _ happened!  _ I don’t know!" Dib threw his arms up, embarrassed and exasperated. "Ugh! I would take the compliment if it didn't end as soon as it started. He called me disgusting."

"Haha," Kork teased. "You are kinda gross."

"I know," Dib groaned. "Humans are kind of gross."

"So then I take it you're not gonna fuck him?"

"Augh. Doubt it. ...He asked about me, though. I've been hung up on that."

Kork raised a brow. "Asked about you how?"

"Well, besides him finally asking for my name," Dib started, a little quieter this time. "He... asked if I knew Dib Membrane. Didn't even gloat when I told him I didn't."

"Oh. Weird." Kork frowned a bit. "What do you think it means?"

"I... honestly have no idea," Dib sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I've gone twenty years of my life thinking that the only reason he'd care to know if I'm alive or not was so he could hunt me down, but... that didn't look like the face of someone disappointed he couldn't kill someone himself. I don't really... know what to think about it. And it's not exactly like I could pry without giving up my cover."

"Maaaybe you could get Tenn to pry for you?" She offered.

"Might not be a half bad idea," Dib agreed. "For now, though, I think I wanna get the nightly call out of the way, and... maybe go have a drink, if they have any alcohol on this planet. Want to come with?"

"Yeah, let's go," Kork shifted out of her bed, tugging on her jacket without any further question.

Grabbing the smaller, weathered briefcase he kept in his bag of other things, Dib led Kork outside. Fortunately for the two of them, there was a ladder up the side of the bunker, and with some effort not to slide off the sloped sides of the roof, he sat at the top, making sure Kork had joined him safely before he got his equipment set up.

The tools were old relics from when he was a boy: a radio and a small satellite, perched at the ready, a pair of headphones that had seen quite a number of repairs. and a microphone that was clearly the only replaced part of the entire kit.

Kork's company for this wasn't anything new, and as he'd done every night for twenty years, he fired up the device, input a certain code that was found on many devices in his long-lost family home, and spoke as clearly into the microphone as he could. 

"Testing, testing, one, two, three," He spoke clearly. "This is Dib Membrane speaking. The time is 7:48PM, Universal Standard Time, and 13:08 in Irk Standard Time. If anyone can hear me, I'm looking for the locations of my sister, Gaz Membrane, and my father, Professor Membrane. If... either of you can hear me, please let me know you're out there. I'm still alive. I... miss both of you. I don't even know if either of you are still out there. I still have so much to say. That I'm sorry for so much, that--- I would give anything to even just know that you were both alive. Kork is with me here again tonight. I'll be here until 8:15 UST. This week, I've been busy with work, but you wouldn't believe the things I've heard about the Milky Way as of late..."

And, for the little less than thirty minutes he sat there, he just... talked. He talked about work, old stories, new life in the old solar system he used to live in, any findings about anything he'd ever seen; anything and everything he could use to occupy thirty minutes, and for anyone to catch his voice during it.

.

As it wound down, though, with the last two minutes remaining, he let out a breath, his shoulders crumpling a bit. 

"...Kork," Dib started, quiet and solemn. "Do you ever wonder if... I'm still doing this for no reason? That they're not out there, and I've just deluded myself into thinking there's still a chance?"

Kork, who’d sitting in a funny cross legged position with her digitigrade legs, shrugged lightly. "You saw 'em fly off, right?"

"I thought so," Dib sighed. "My dad had some sort of ship he'd been working on, and it looked something like it. But... anything could've happened since then. It's been so long..."

"The universe is a big place," Kork murmured.

"I know," Dib gave a small, weak nod. "...Guess there's nothing for it but to keep trying, huh?"

"Yeah," Kork agreed, leaning on him. "And even if they are gone... they'll hear you."

Dib swallowed lightly, his nod a bit stiffer this time, but he leaned ever-so-softly back against her. "...That's true. If... they are gone, and I stop talking to them, no one else will. ...Back on Earth, when someone died, we would leave grave markers for them and go talk to them sometimes. Families for generations used to do that. There were even days to celebrate our ancestors and those we've lost. It's... hard to think about that not happening anymore, sometimes. That there's so many people who are just... forgotten now. Sometimes I feel like it’s all still happening, and I’m just not there to see it."

"Yeah, gosh," Kork murmured. "I remember you telling me about that... Dia de los Muertos holiday. All those spirits won't be able to come home..."

"Mhm," Dib let out a breath, quiet for a long moment. When there came nothing through his headphones, though, he finally unplugged them, putting everything away gently, in the same order he did it every night. "How about--- we go ahead and get those drinks after I drop this off? It's too quiet up here."

"...Yeah. Let's go."

With little longer to wait, the two went by to a local bar. Unsurprisingly, there were others from the work crew there, who regarded them with a wave or a lifted drink. 

It was only a couple hours in, with laughs between the two, before Dib had gone in a few drinks deeper than he meant to with a stronger alien alcohol than he'd ever had before. He wasn’t one to drink often - that was usually more Kork’s fair, and he was the one who’d carry her home after a long night of shenanigans. Tonight, though, he fouhd himself leaned against the table on his elbow, his head swimming with unclear, hazy thoughts. He had been in the middle of rattling off a story to Kork, before he trailed off, seeming to get lost in thought.

"Man," Dib muttered with a laugh. "You sure do just listen to me go on all the fuckin' time, huh?

"Yeah, you talk a lot," Kork said, cheerfully drunk in her own right. "If I didn't listen you'd probably just talk to yourself."

"I used to all the time!" Dib snorted a laugh. "It was awful. People used to think I was out of my mind."

"You are, but like. In a fun and charming way."

"Aww, I'm glad you think so, because as single-handedly the best person I've ever met, you are so stuck with me."

"Oh no what will I ever dooooo," Kork teased, taking a short swig from her glass, and making a face as she swallowed the drink. "Uuuugh Irken booze tastes like fucking sugar. All of it just tastes like sugar."

"I know! It's awful!" Dib laughed. "There used to be candy on Earth that was just straight-up flavored sugar in tubes. And this tastes exactly. Like that."

"Ughhhh I need to get some Vortian liquor while I’m home," Kork groaned, leaning on him. "Whatever. At least I'm drunk."

"Even if it means you can't eat anything sweet for a week?" Dib teased, throwing an arm playfully around her.

"Kinda hard to pull off no sweets on Irk," Kork half-joked.

"Ugh, I know," Dib playfully rolled his eyes. "Sugar-addicted bugs, I swear. Have you seen half the drinks in here? It's just sugar syrup!"

"Gross!!!" Kork squealed, kicking her little legs. "It's too much sugar. At least they also kinda like citrus."

"Yeah! Citrus is good," Dib snickered. "Hey. Hey. I got a stupid idea. Wanna go wander around in the capital? I got security clearance."

"Guh, why," Kork groaned. "I'm drunk and I hate this place."

"Could probably steal something," Dib pointed out, lifting his brows her way. "I dunno! I'm drunk and antsy."

"I wanna pick up CHICKS," Kork demanded.

"Fuck yeah!" Dib threw up his arms. "Do it! I'll be a wingman. You find her, and I got you covered."

"You should!!! Also have casual sex!!!"

"I'm old and awkward I don't even know how I would manage propositioning that!!"

"Dude, Irkens are inherent xenophiles because they're invasive, just be like, 'hey hot stuff I'm the last of my species' and they'll nut right then and there," Kork prattled.

"You know?" Dib actually seemed to consider that for a moment. "You're right, and I think I hate that!"

"Then you can stop thinking about that guy," Kork said pointedly. "You know the one."

"Ugh, that guy," Dib groaned overdramatically.

"Yeah! Just go fuck some other guy!" Kork looked around, scanning the room, pointing to a somewhat taller, slim, freckled Irken with purple eyes. "Like him! He's cute."

"I mean, I suppose he is cute," Dib remarked, seeming to mull it over. "And I know your type. I can tell you right now which of these people you're gonna sleep with."

"Do it, pussy," Kork teased.

"Tall scary guard with the crazy jaw scar down towards the end," Dib pointed out with a vague gesture.

"Pff. Yeah right. She won't fuck me."

"Bet you I can get her to."

"Bullshit."

"You wanna bet on it?"

"Yeah. Go ask her if she wants to fuck me. See what happens."

"On it." 

Standing, swaying, catching himself, and setting himself to the task, Dib went over to the guard, who regarded him with confusion and a little bit of distaste. What they talked about was inaudible over the sounds of the bustling bar, but a few gestures were made Kork's way, and the Irken woman barked a laugh.

Instead of sending Dib off, though, or decking him in the face, he stepped back, she rose from her chair, and with a grin that only looked a fair bit suggestive, she leaned against the bar where Dib's abandoned bar stool was.

"Hey," She started, her voice rough but her tone very amused, and absolutely drunk, but not seeming phased by that. "Human-boy over there said in way too many words that you're looking to get laid. That true?"

"Uhh." Kork blinked owlishly and wrung her wrists a bit. "M. Maybe?"

"I can't do much with a maybe, y'know," She teased. "Except deck your buddy in the face if he was lying about you."

"N-no, I mean, I am--- I mean, I'd like to but I wasn't. Expecting to?" she stammered.

"Well, I mean, I'm out celebrating tonight," She purred. "And you're cute. So if that's something that'd be up your alley..."

"Hoo boy, alright," Kork said, blushing deeply and bouncing on her toes. "But--- first I gotta help my buddy find someone to go home with. Only fair."

"Hey, that's a noble cause," She snickered. "I'm gonna go let my coworkers know where I'm goin'. If I disappear, ask 'em for Syl, they know how to find me."

"Syl," Kork repeated. "Got it. I'm Kork, by the way."

"Well, Kork," Syl purred, brushing her hand over Kork's shoulder as she stepped out. "I'll see you here in a little bit! Good luck."

"Th-thanks," Kork stammered, flustering. "Heeeey Dib I love what you did but I'm gonna kill you for the way you did it!!!"

"What? You told me to!" Dib laughed, watching Syl try not to crack up at that as she weaved through the people at the bar. "In your own words: 'go ask her if she wants to fuck me.' And I did it!"

"You don't have to do things exactly as I say to sometimes!!! Dib!!!" Kork threw up her arms. "Now pick an Irken to bang. Do you like freckle guy?"

"I'm drunk, what did you expect from me!" Dib grinned. "But, yeah, he seems nice enough! If anybody in here, I'd have to pick him, for sure."

"Alright!" Kork turned to him. "You there! How drunk are you?"

"Uhh." The Irken, purple-eyed and clad in purple as well, looked up from his drink, which he was nursing alone. "Reasonably so. Why?"

"Do you want to have drunken casual intercourse with an equally drunk alien?" Kork asked. "Not me, the big guy."

The Irken looked up at Dib, flushing lightly. "The--- the tall one?"

"Yeah," Kork said. "You guys dig tall, right? He's super tall, and the last of his species, and he thinks you're cute! Take him to your place."

"Th-that's a bit sudden, don't you think?"

"If that's a no, I can move on," Kork offered.

The Irken gave Dib another look. "Me? Really?"

"Hm?" Dib had spaced out a bit, having been polishing off the last of his drink, lifting his brows. Once he'd processed the question, though, he offered the Irken man a grin. "Well, if I wasn't certain, would I have come over here and potentially made a drunk fool of myself, would I? ...Don't answer that, actually. Don't let Kork answer that. But, yes, I'm sure."

The Irken looked unsure of himself, fretting for a moment, then shrugged. "Aw, what the hell. Why not?"

"Well, I'm ready whenever you are, then," Dib replied, upbeat and a bit excited. "I don't mind sitting around for a bit if you want to finish your drink!"

"Nah, I'm not worried about it," he replied, standing. "I'm Floog."

"And I'm Dib," He replied, the need for a pseudonym completely escaped him for the moment. "Care to lead us there?"

Floog froze. "Wait. You're Dib?"

"Hm?" Dib paused, gears turning, before he froze, as well. "Ah--- did I say that? Good lord. Maybe I've had more than I thought!"

Floog swallowed roughly, lowering his voice. "I won't tell if you don't. If the Tallest found out that I--- that I--- with you, I'd---"

"I won't say a word," Dib insisted, quick and quiet. "As far as you know, my name is Daniel. Alright?"

Standing up, Floog gave a nod. "Alright. Let's go."

Dib gave a nod of his own, before tossing Kork an awkward smile. "Guess I'll see you tomorrow, then! Good luck out there."

"Same to you, geek-ass," Kork teased.

Dib couldn't help but laugh, following Floog home. When was the last time he'd done something like this? He honestly had no idea. He'd had a few drunken flings before, during his time of hiding, mostly to fill the loneliness that came with being essentially a space-hobo. 

When they got to the home, despite still being thoroughly drunk and having been making jokes with the freckled man the entire time, his attention was stolen by the inside of the home. He'd only seen the inside of the citadel and his bunker.

"Wow, this feels so much less like a metal death-trap than everywhere else I've been!" Dib remarked, taking an interested look around and minding himself to not trip and get absolutely wrecked by the carpet. "You've got a lovely home, Floog."

"Thank you," Floog replied. "You're--- not what I expected, from the stories. Everyone thinks you're dead, you know. ...You're pretty famous."

"That's so wild to think about," Dib let out a disbelieving laugh. "By all accounts, I should be dead, probably! Now you've got me wondering, though, what do the stories crack me up to be?"

"Oh--- well, Tallest Zim's tales of daring-do against his Earth rival are pretty popular. He used to tell them a lot on the Massive, and I’m on the science team aboard the ship, so," Floog explained. "He made you out to be quite powerful. And serious. A dedicated bounty hunter of foreign creatures on your planet. But you seem so--- relaxed."

"Part of that is the alcohol," Dib snickered, letting out a breath. "It's been a long time since then, though. I used to be very dedicated to stopping him--- it was life or death of my planet, after all. ...Ah, perhaps that's a grim subject better for another day, though."

"...You're very handsome," Floog remarked, changing the topic.

"You think so?" Dib couldn't help a chuckle, a light dusting of red rising to his bearded face. "I could say the same for you, you know. I haven't seen many Irkens with freckles. I kind of adore it, honestly."

"Hah." Floog raised a hand to his face. "Thanks."

"Thank you for having me over," Dib murmured, finally moving over to Floog, brushing his hands over the sides of the man's arms. "Despite any, ah. Misgivings. Given what you know, now."

"Oh, of course not! I mean, I'd be in--- hahaha, so much trouble. So much. If the Tallest ever found out, but---" He flustered, grinning. "It's not often someone takes a shine to me, and on top of that, someone so--- renowned, and attractive! I... suppose I just. Feel a little special. That's all."

"That's so hard to imagine! You were the first one who stood out to me in there," Dib praised him, unable to help a grin of his own. "Well, I ought to do what I can to keep you feeling special tonight, then, shouldn't I?"

"I won't complain," Floog replied, a goofy, enamored grin plastered across his face.

"Well, perhaps we should move somewhere a little more comfortable, then," Dib teased.

"Of course." Floog led Dib to his room and to the bed. Flushing a deep, dark purple, Floog shed his tunic from his uniform and peeled off his boots and gloves, climbing into bed. "Sorry it's a bit small... You're huge."

Dib shed his clothes down to leave only his weathered jeans, joining Floog without complaint, unable to help but laugh at that. "I've noticed! Most things that are normal Irken-sized aren't exactly me-sized, it seems. I'm not particularly worried about it!"

Floog looked him over, starry-eyed, and smiled. "Wow..."

"Yeah?" Dib gave a bashful grin, clearly thoroughly flattered.

"Yeah. Look at all these scars. Are many of these from your battles with the Tallest?" Floog traced them with his fingers, a bit star-struck.

"God, more than I can count," Dib chuckled, letting out a light breath at the gentle touches. "Not all the stories behind these are as glamorous as he'd like to say. Though, these," Dib gestured to three circular scars on his chest. "Are from an incident involving his PAK, if you'd believe it."

"Ohhh, I've heard that story," Floog remarked, fawning over them. "You're pretty amazing, aren't you?"

"I don't know about that," Dib grinned, hardly knowing what to do with all that attention. Praise wasn't something he'd ever gotten used to, or got an abundance of at any point. "I'm just a roughed-up guy who's been to hell and back, and lucked out in getting some stories to go with it."

"I lucked out, too," Floog said, scooting closer. With a bit of effort, he leaned up, kissing Dib gently.

Dib leaned back down, meeting him half-way so he wouldn't have to stretch up so far, letting his eyes slip closed and a breath escape him.

When lean arms wrapped around his shoulders and he felt Floog melt into the bed a bit, Dib pressed softly into him, looping his arms around Floog's waist. He hadn't realized how much he missed being this close to someone; it'd been longer than he cared for since he'd been this close to someone, hadn't it?

...Well. Not as long as he initially thought, perhaps. 

Why, now of all times, did he have to think about that?

Shoving that thought aside, he shifted his arms a little bit, trying to push his focus back towards Floog. He deserved the attention more, after all. Lifting his arm, he brushed a hand over the side of his head, delicately moving his fingertips to Floog's antenna. He'd heard that they were sensitive somewhere - probably a long time ago - but that, too, was a thought that was pushed from his mind for now.

Floog, of course, enjoyed the touch, but it only seemed erogenous toward the base at which point his breath hitched. "Ah... Th-that's really nice---"

"Oh?" Dib hummed pleasantly, brushing his fingers over the base of the antenna, softly brushing the thin appendage with his thumb.

"Yeah," Floog said, breathless. "Oh my god... I... nngh, I don't, um. Know where I should touch you."

"My hips and pretty much anything around there tends to be good," Dib murmured softly. "But anywhere is nice. You've got warm hands, so I'm not terribly picky..."

Eager, Floog set his hands on Dib's hips, rubbing lightly along the bone there.

Dib let out a soft but content breath, a light, quiet sound of approval. Don't think about the hands on his hips earlier that day. Don't.

With a heated breath of his own, Floog found himself interested to move things along, setting a hand between Dib's legs and rubbing gently at the underside of his jeans, interested to learn what he would find there.

"Mmmh," Dib groaned, grinding gently against the hand that pressed between his legs. He needed to move this along, and he was glad that Floog seemed to be eager to do so - last thing he needed was his troubled thoughts talking him out of it when he was so close, and already relatively riled up.

Floog's breath hitched and his head swam dizzily, his eyes falling halfway closed. "What do you want to do?"

"I want whatever you've got for me," Dib murmured, hazy, his heart thrumming in his chest. "Anything and everything will do."

"I don't, um. Know how your sex parts work," Floog admitted. "You'll have to tell me or show me."

"Oh! It's just sort of... internal?" Dib explained. "Anything that would go in tends to be what I lean towards, but there's also, ah--- a part for external stimulation. If that makes sense."

"Oh! Yeah, I--- I think I understand. I have, um. Both, actually. A part that goes inwards, and an external one," Floog replied.

"Sounds like, ah--- a good match, then?" Dib cracked a sheepish smile.

"Must be!" Floog laughed. "You could, uh. Get over top of me. Like straddle me?"

"Sounds like a good plan to me," Dib shifted to sit up, trying not to sway as he did so, a frustrated grunt escaping him as he steadied himself. "Augh, god. Alcohol is not conducive to this. I got it."

Floog laughed. "Just get your pants off and get that gorgeous body over my hips and I'll get us started from there. Okay?"

"Alright, one second," Dib agreed, hauling himself off. And, after removing his belt, his pants, and his underwear, he straddled Floog again, letting out a breath as he steadied himself. He could do this. He could handle this. He just needed to stop thinking. Why couldn't he stop thinking? "There we are. You ready?"

Floog had already shuffled free of his own pants by the time Dib had returned, smiling. "So ready."

Then, from a little hidden slit on the front of his groin, there came a long, tapered tendril, completely prehensile and soft pink in color, which found its way up to Dib's entrance. With a look of concentration on Floog's face, the tendril swirled and flicked, weaving its way between soft folds of flesh ever so gently, finding the external spot he had mentioned first.

"O-oh, holy shit," Dib gasped out, having to lean over and press his hands into the bed to steady himself. That was unlike anything he'd ever experienced, and the second it brushed past his clit, he let out a shuddering groan. A clear indicator that he absolutely found it.

"Ah, okay, so that's the spot you meant," Floog murmured, continuing to tease it. He sighed contentedly. "You feel nice..."

"Y--- you, as well," Dib managed out, swallowing thickly, trying to get his voice steady. "I had--- no idea it would be prehensile."

"Hehe." Floog chuckled, rubbing Dib's thigh idly. "Humans don't have anything like this?"

"Ah--- not at all," Dib murmured, letting out a shuddering sigh. "Closest thing was just a muscle that--- hardened. And that was it."

"Mm, doesn't sound too bad..." Floog slid the tip of the tendril up inside of Dib.

"A-ah, holy shit," Dib hummed shakily, his fingers curling into the odd fabric of the sheets. "Z--"

Wait.

Oh, god.

He almost said the entirely wrong name.

^

"I---" He stammered, paling, still hazy and drunk, but looking like panic had sobered him up a bit, leaving him guilty-looking and mortified. "I don't know if I can do this. I'm--- sorry. I'm so sorry."

"Huh? Oh." Floog sounded a bit forlorn. "Y...you sure? Did I do something wrong?"

"No, no, you were--- amazing, Floog," Dib assured him, brushing a reassuring hand over his side. "I'm just--- I'm not with it tonight. I had a rocky evening, and--- and that's starting to hit me at the worst possible time. It wouldn't be fair to you for me to--- half-ass this."

"...if you want to pretend I'm someone else, I don't mind," Floog murmured.

"Oh, no, Floog, it's... it's not that," Dib frowned deeply, brushing the freckled man's jawline softly with his knuckles. "...You've had a difficult time of this, too, huh?"

"...Yeah. It's okay." Floog gently removed himself from Dib, pulling away from his hand. He looked hurt. "I'm a chronic rebound fling. I guess I just have one of those faces."

"I'm so sorry," Dib murmured, shifting to stand. "I didn't mean that for you. You're... a good man, Floog. You deserve better than that. I... I don't exactly know how, considering I'm not thinking terribly clearly, but I'll make it up to you somehow."

"G'night, Dib," Floog replied, decidedly getting under the covers. "Mind seeing yourself out? I'm not in love with the idea of getting up."

"Yes, of course," Dib agreed, and once he'd gotten his clothes on, he departed the home quietly, starting the long, silent, shameful trek back to his bunker alone. He had a lot to think about, it seemed.

Fortunately, with the help of alcohol, it hadn’t taken him long to fall asleep, and he slept long and hard through the morning. He only even began to stir when Kork returned the next morning, looking pleased with herself. "Oh my god, dude, I barely slept! Gonna be tired today, but SO worth it. How was your guy?"

"Mm," Dib murmured, having just started to wake up, but clearly not looking terribly interested in actually doing so. "I fucked it up, Kork."

"Oh no, did you think about Zim and ditch the guy?"

Dib didn't answer that as he finally moved to sit up. The forlorn look on his face spoke volumes.

"You goddamn moron," Kork groaned. "Why the heck did you do that?"

"Because I'm an absolute dipshit," Dib groaned, lifting a hand to his face. "I don't know what the fuck is wrong with me. I... feel bad for him. He didn't deserve that."

"You're damn right he didn't! That's the last time I wingman for you," Kork scolded.

"Yeah, I figured," Dib let out a breath, too exhausted to argue. "Can't blame you there."

Kork groaned. "Why don't you just get Zim to fuck you?"

"Because it just can't--- work, Kork," Dib frowned deeply. "That would involve him knowing who I am, and--- for God's sake, he destroyed my planet. I'm not going to fuck him. Jesus."

"Okay but you ran out on another guy because you wanted to fuck him, specifically, so badly," Kork said pointedly.

"I think I just need to get off this planet as soon as possible," Dib sighed. "This is too much. It was easier, back when I thought I knew for certain that he wanted me dead."

"You are a fucking nightmare. Were other humans this goddamn obtuse?"

"They absolutely were, Kork."

"Thank the gods it's not just you, then." She scoffed, annoyed. "Listen. Go see Zim and get your answers, and then get that dick, and then stab him. You'll feel better."

"I will, but wouldn't that wind up getting me executed?" Dib lifted a brow.

"Not if we skip town and get off this planet immediately after."

"...Huh. You know? That's not a bad idea."

"You just gotta find some way to get all this out of your system," Kork asserted, hands on her hips. "It's up to you to figure out what that is. I'll support you, but not if you run out on cute guys who are just trying to have a good night."

"I'll get it under control," Dib assured her, frowning. "I just wish I could make it up to Floog. He was... so incredibly sweet the whole time. If I had realized I was so bad off, I wouldn't have put him through that."

"You know I say you marry him, but you know me," Kork teased.

"I know, I know," Dib gave a weak chuckle, shaking his head. "I've... let this go on too long, I think. I'm sorry to have let it start affecting you when you try to help me out."

"Just do me a favor and get it sorted out, alright?" Kork nudged him lightly.

"I'm going to try, that's for sure," Dib nudged her back gently. "Let's just hope I don't get myself killed in the process."

"Don't you have to get to work?" Kork asked.

"He said he'd send for me, and not to just come in," Dib replied, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. "...Think I should head up there and just rip it off like a band-aid?"

"Maybe," Kork said, shrugging. "Or wait for Tenn."

"Suppose it can't take them too long to come after me," Dib noted. "Might just wait around, then. It'll give me a chance to think of what to say."

"Alright, well, I gotta get going," Kork said. "The crew is heading out soon. Good luck, dude."

"Good luck to you, as well," Dib gave her a nod as she went for the door. "Hopefully I'll have news for you tonight that doesn't involve us being fugitives!"

"Yaaaaay I can't waaaaait," Kork mock-cheered as she made for the door.

Dib saw her off before he returned to sit on his bed, waiting and mulling over what to say, or how to even begin to say it, for that matter. He’d lingered on this for too long. It’d consumed his thoughts for all-together too much time, and Kork was right - he couldn’t let this old wound of his start impacting other people. 

It was easier said than done, though, and even with hours to himself to think, he still had no idea where to even begin.


	6. Revelations

In the Citadel, off to work as was routine, Tenn brought some papers into Zim's office. She was always an early bird, and she didn’t tend to take this long to bring the daily reports. She’d gotten caught up with some Elites who barraged her with excuses for delayed reports, and finally got the information out of them (spilled drinks on important documents, who  _ does _ that?), but the second she got in the office space, things felt... off. 

And, with furrowed brows, she spoke up, uncertainly. "...Hey, is everything alright? You don't look like you're holding up so good."

Zim, who’d been staring blankly out the wide window on the furthest wall, blinked and lifted his attention her way. "Eh? Oh. I'm fine, yes, I just had a very strange day yesterday."

"Let me guess," Tenn started, moving to take a seat. Since they'd been friends for so long, it wasn't exactly uncommon for some degree of casualness between the two, and now seemed to call for it. "The human guy do something?"

"He----"Zim groaned. "You would not believe how disrespectful he was! He had the audacity to raise his voice at me!"

"And you let him live?" Tenn looked surprised, but there was a degree of skepticism with the look on her face.

"I don't know! Yes? He--- we--- I was going to kill him, and---"

"...Ohh my god. I know that look. You guys didn't."

"It was just kissing!" Zim threw up his hands, outraged. "It was revolting! I kicked him out."

"So, what are we doing with him, then?" Tenn asked, lifting a brow. "I mean, that's kind of... y'know. I don't know if you want to keep him on board after that?"

"It's fine! I'll deal with it," Zim snapped.

"Fine! Hey, I was just asking," Tenn lifted a hand defensively, but frowned softly. "Just know that if you need me to deal with him, I will. I know the whole... having a human around thing has been difficult for you."

"I'm fine, Tenn, thank you for your concern," Zim insisted, still frazzled.

"Understood," Tenn eased off of it. She knew better than to press too much--- he would only say if he wanted to gripe about it, after all. "Are we calling him up today, then?"

"Yes, go ahead," Zim said. "I have work for him."

"You don't have to worry about sending for me," Dib's voice came from the doorway, leaving Tenn jumping and snapping around, looking shocked, and then thoroughly frustrated, not exactly pleased at being startled. "I wasn't sure if you were going to come get me today, and I had something I needed to speak with you about, so--- good timing, I suppose."

"Well, maybe so, but a little warning next time would be appreciated!" Tenn scoffed, but let out a breath, looking back Zim's way. "I'll leave you guys to it. Just page for me if you need me, I'll still be around, I've just got a few things to wrap up."

"Thank you, Tenn, you are excused," Zim replied, regarding Dib a bit coldly.

"So," Dib started, a bit cold himself, but there was an unsureness to his words as he stepped in. "I can't imagine you're terribly pleased with me after yesterday. I could say the same, but... that's not entirely what I've come to you about."

Zim scoffed. "I have no interest in talking about yesterday. It is behind me."

"Well, I do," Dib remarked. "When you asked about Dib Membrane yesterday, why did you want to know? I've heard that's a renowned name around here."

"That is a part of my past that I have no desire to discuss," Zim barked, immediately defensive.

"Would you discuss it if I told you I had information?" Dib pressed, firm and unwavering.

Zim glared at him, narrowing his eyes. "No."

"Even if I were to tell you that he is, in fact, alive?"

"I am going to have you killed if you lie to me or pester me about this one more time," Zim warned, standing again. "You have already gotten away with more than most, human, but I will make your species extinct right here, right now."

"You won't kill me," Dib challenged. "And if you did, it would be a greater mistake than you would know until it was too late. But I'm not going to tell you anything without answers. Why did you destroy Earth, Zim?"

Zim glowered at him, seething, looking like he was ready to rip Dib's throat right out of his neck. He didn’t lunge, though. "...You want answers?" he snarled. "Fine. You can have them. But you are going to do a task for me first."

"What is the task?" Dib asked, bitter. "If it means finally getting some answers out of you, so be it."

"Come with me," Zim scowled, pushing past him and out the door.

Dib was silent, letting out a frustrated breath, but followed along attentively.

In harsh, heavy silence, Zim led Dib down a winding hallway, stopping just outside the entrance to his chambers. Before he took a step further inside, he turned, holding up a finger to halt Dib in his tracks. "Wait here."

Furrowing his brows, Dib stopped, taking a look around. "...What is this?"

"My chambers," Zim said plainly. "I don't want you to come in, so you wait here."

Zim disappeared inside the room, shuffling about for a bit, before he returned with a box. It was nothing fancy, just an old shoe box with a logo for an Earth company. The box was weathered and rumpled, covered with water damage. Zim passed it to Dib, with more care than he’d ever shown with anything else. "Your next job is to fix this. It's a personal project of mine that I have not been able to work on for many years due to my workload and the fact that it must be handled with extreme discretion. You will treat this device with as much care as you would Virk's PAK and you will keep your mouth shut about it. Once I see it working, you will get your answers."

Dib furrowed his brows, taking the box. That was a logo that he almost didn't recognize, it'd been so long, but the sight fizzled his anger, replacing it with an old, sad nostalgia, even as Zim snipped instructions. 

Opening the box, though, his brows shot up.

Inside were the crumpled remains of the SIR unit he'd seen so much of during their time fighting. 

But instead of blue and so, so energetic, it was cold, dark, and looked like it'd seen hell and back. 

"What... happened to it?" Dib asked, tentatively. "I haven't seen anything besides a trash compactor do this sort of damage. I imagine I can handle it, but... good lord."

"It was damaged in a fight," Zim replied succinctly.

Dib tossed him an uncertain, skeptical look. "...With who?"

"Is that important?"

"Suppose not."

"Then we are in agreement. The SIR unit turns on, and you can ask anything you like," Zim replied curtly. "You may work in my office or in your quarters. Good luck."

"Wait, that's--- it?" Dib seemed a little dumbfounded. "Just this robot? There's no catch?"

"I haven't had time to fix my damn robot in 20 years so I want a neutral party to fix it for me, is that hard to understand? Either fix the robot or leave me alone," Zim barked.

"Alright! Alright," Dib muttered, frowning deeply. "I've got it under control. I know I've left a toolkit in your office, so I'll go work there."

"Very well." Zim simmered down and headed back that way. "Nosy, insubordinate human..."

Dib let out a quiet scoff, but followed along with him once again, keeping the box closed as they passed through the halls. The second they got in the room, though, he set to work, tying some unruly hair back and setting to his task. 

"So, what do you need this for?" Dib asked, not looking up from his work, but filling the silence. "I was under the impression Tallests didn't need SIR units."

Zim scoffed, not dignifying that with a response.

"Mm. Sentimental value," Dib hummed, unworried. "I get that."

"Oh, shut up."

"Not going to happen."

Sitting down his pen with a harsh  _ thunk, _ Zim huffed sharply."I'M GOING TO THE MASSIVE GOODBYE."

"Bye!" Dib waved, not even looking up.

With another huff, Zim stormed out, leaving Dib alone in the office.

A moment later, he came back for his tablet, and then left again.

Fixing a piece of technology that Dib had never worked with, in most cases, would've been easier said than done.

Considering that this one seemed to be made out of literal, actual garbage, though, he figured he had it under control. 

An unfold of crumpled metal here, a fixed hinge there. A welding gun and some careful smoothing with precise tools let him pull apart the sad, crumpled robot, the slowly unwrapping familiar sight pulling at something old and sentimental in Dib's heartstrings. Gir's lights being off was a difficult sight - during the rocky start of he and Zim's friendship, before everything crumbled, he'd started to grow fond of the hyperactive robot. What happened to him?

If Zim snapped hard enough to destroy Earth, he could only imagine that Zim was the one who did this. Nothing was sacred to him.

"You're in rough shape, huh, buddy?" Dib sighed quietly to the unresponsive SIR unit, reattaching the final arm to the limp, light form. Irken wiring was odd - there was barely any to speak of. He wasn't sure how the electrical routing worked, but with the activation button connected back into the shallow holder, and two little mechanisms locking into place.

Giving it a test and reaching down to his PADD to check out the instructions again, Dib pressed the button with a little click, just to make sure it was seated correctly. He was far too exhausted and distracted to even begin to notice any whirring happening on the table while he searched.

After a long pause, as the whirring grew louder, at long last the bright blue lights of Gir's eyes came on. Despite one cracked eye lens, he was looking a lot more like his old self, and while Dib was looking away, he sat up, and immediately began doing the thing he had always done best.

Screaming.

_ Thunk _ .

The rattle of tools came with Dib hitting his head on the edge of the table, and instinctively, he grabbed at the source of the shrill sound, struggling to cover GIr's mouth and hold his head, dropping the hologram tablet. No PAK arms to help here. Why was he screaming? Was he on? Was this just some sort of audio test?

"GIR!" Dib tried to call over the screams, still loud despite muffling. "Gir, please, shhhh! Oh, goddamn it, okay, let me just---"

Dib had been going to press the power button on his chest, and had actually managed to--- to no avail. Seems as though it'd jammed. 

However, before Dib had to do anything else, Gir finally seemed to register him, the screaming ceasing abruptly in favor of a "huh?" sound.

"You're on?" Dib asked, relieved, finally moving his hand - although tentatively - setting his palm on the table. "I can't believe that worked! I figured there was more I needed to do. So, uh. Zim's robot. How are you feeling? Everything seem to be working correctly?"

"Woah!!" Gir stood, mooshing Dib's cheeks with his little metal hands. "You're not scary!!"

"Suppose I'm not!" Dib's reply was muffled, but he pulled his face out of the tiny robot's hands, patting his head softly. He was so enthusiastic, just as energetic as ever. It was a welcome change of pace, really. "Can you run a system diagnostic for me, buddy? ...Do you, uh. Know how to do that, now that I think about it?"

"I diagnose you with Mary!" Gir answered, poking Dib's nose.

"What? No, I mean---" Dib furrowed his brows, going to correct him, but he froze the second he fully processed what he said. Oh, no. "I think you've got the wrong person. My name's not Mary."

"Haha! I know," Gir replied, patting his head. "Where's Master?"

Did he actually recognize him, or was Mary something he called all humans? Oh, god, he'd never paid attention. Good going, asshole. "In his auditorium. I'm supposed to take you there once you're working."

"Okie dokie!!"

Letting out a short, stressed breath, Dib sat the little robot onto the floor. It was fine, it was going to be alright. Gir wasn't that smart. He probably didn't actually recognize him. He looked so different now, how could he?

That's what Dib kept telling himself mentally as he led Gir to the aforementioned auditorium, stepping in from a side door, and calling up to the podium. "Zim! You got company!"

Zim looked up from his own PADD, his eyes locking on the tiny robot. His face fell into a look of shock, and his eyes lit up like a Christmas tree.

"GIR!!!"

"Master!!!" Gir dashed forward, leaping at Zim and into his arms, hugging him tightly with a little tab of pink fabric that served as his tongue sticking out of his mouth. "You look different! Did you get a haircut?"

Zim's eyes misted over as he looked down at his dinged-up old SIR unit. "You scared me, you mouthy little trash can," he scolded, but there was no malice in his tone as he hugged Gir back. "Don't do that again!"

"He was easy enough to repair," Dib started, after letting them have a moment. "The circuitry wasn't what I was used to, and easy enough to figure out. Though he did immediately start screaming the second he was on. Might want to get that checked out."

"I was gonna get smashed but then I wasn't," Gir remarked vaguely.

"You were, but you got better," Zim corrected.

"Ah. That would explain... his condition before," Dib muttered.

"Yes, well," Zim muttered. "That's... a story for another day."

"Did Dibbo fix me?" Gir asked.

Zim frowned. "...Dib is gone, Gir. You won't see him anymore."

"Whaaaa? He's right there! Did your eyes stop workin'?"

Then, Zim finally made eye contact with Dib, and took a good hard look at his glasses, his hair. 

Humans age faster than Irkens.

"YOU."

Dib froze where he stood, the color draining from his face. Gir did recognize him. Not only had he recognized him, but he'd said it right here, in the core of the capital, far away from any escape routes.

He was trapped between a rock and a hard place, and he was locked there. His legs were failing him. 

He was going to die. 

And yet, his blood boiled.

"Who else would it be, Zim?" Dib asked, stiff in his spot, but his posture changed to a more challenging one to match his tone, his voice raising as he spoke. "Who else would've been prepared for you tearing apart the planet!?"

"What were you planning, then?" Zim said, approaching him briskly to stare him down. "Here for revenge?"

"Unlike one of us, I'm not one for underhanded attacks," Dib snarled as he took a sharp step back, finally getting himself to budge. Zim was getting too close to him too quickly, though. His stomach knotted. "Stay away from me, Zim. Stay---" A waver in his voice. Fear. Goddamn it. "Stay where you are!"

"It's now or never, Membrane!" Zim barked, baring down on him. "What's it going to be?"

"Wh... what's goin' on?" Gir asked fearfully. "Master, what's wrong?"

"Not now, Gir," Zim growled.

"Why don't you tell him? Why don't you tell him who you are now, and what happened?" Dib snapped. "Tallest Zim, destroyer of Earth, single-handed eliminator of the human race! Everything from before is gone!"

"Earth is gone?" Gir asked. "But---"

"Then why don't you do something about it, coward?" Zim boomed. "Or are you still too weak to stop me?!"

"I'm not going to give you the  _ satisfaction, _ " Dib hissed. "I won't give you that final battle. I know you've talked about it, our fights, every single altercation we had. I've heard it a dozen times. 

A sharp step forward, and a too-close fiery connection of eye contact was all Dib had to offer him, as well as a scowl. "I'm going to leave this fucking planet. And you're going to have to live for the rest of your life, knowing that you didn't win."

"Fine," Zim snarled back. "Run away, you little cockroach, and live every day knowing you couldn't kill me."

"Oh?" Dib gave an incredulous laugh, filled with venom. "Just like you couldn't kill me, right? Even though you tried?"

"Do you want me to?!" Zim lunged forward again.

Dib stumbled back, kicking fiercely at Zim's armored skirt to keep him back, practically baring his teeth at the Tallest as he boomed at him. "What the fuck would it matter, Zim!? To prove you can? To who, your shaken up little robot?"

At the kick, Zim stumbled a bit, then snarled, grabbing at the front of Dib's shirt. "ENOUGH!"

Dib wrestled himself against the grab, his hands immediately snapping up to the bracer of the hand that held him. "WE TRUSTED YOU, ZIM! I TRUSTED YOU! I TURNED MY BACK FOR ONE MINUTE, AND YOU DESTROYED THE ENTIRE FUCKING EARTH!"

"YES!" Zim cackled at that. "Yes I did! I killed everyone you loved and there wasn't a single thing you could do to stop me! There never was, Dib! I was just toying with your pathetic species the entire time, and now! Now I'm going to FINISH THE JOB."

Dib wanted so badly to challenge him, to lash out at him, to claw at his face and kill him for what he did. The fingers in the bracer curled harshly. He clenched his jaw. 

But a faint memory of what was pressed at his racing mind.

He couldn't do it. 

Instead, all he could do was kick at him again--- this time, with both legs, since he was nearly lifted off the ground--- with as much force as he had in him, twisting himself the second he felt gravity start to weigh him to the floor. He had to get out of here, and he had to get out of here as quickly as he could.

With a yelp, Zim stumbled, dropping Dib and clattering to the ground.

And the second he was free, Dib ran. He scrambled to his feet and ran as fast as his legs could carry him, as long as they would carry him, shoving past drones and Elites alike, who looked more confused than anything.

He needed to get back to the barracks, get Kork, and go.

"Wait!!!" Gir called after him, running along behind.

"GIR, NO!" Zim reached out, but couldn't stand up fast enough to stop Gir following Dib.

By the time Dib had run out of breath and had to stop, he'd made it down to the stairs outside of the Citadel's towering spire, his breaths heaving. He had to sit--- he was going to run himself straight into a heart-attack if he didn't pace himself. 

Before he could really process it, though, the sounds of tiny clinking footsteps were coming behind him, and he whirled around, reaching out a menacing hand--- the only weapon he had. He faltered when he saw the tiny machine, though, letting out a ragged breath. 

"Gir," Dib muttered, his voice choppy with his panting, "What are you doing here? Go on back to your master."

"You gotta come back!" Gir wailed. "You can't leave! We always together, aren't we? Where you gonna go? Will you visit?"

"I--- I can't tell you that," Dib insisted, trying to settle him down. "I can't stay. Zim plans to kill me if I do. I--- won't be able to visit for the same reason, either. You've... been gone a long time, Gir. Things have changed."

"What?" Gir sounded dismayed. "Where'd I go?"

"You were sleeping," Dib told him, trying to be gentler about it. "You--- got hurt somehow, I'm pretty sure."

Gir wracked his little brain for answers. "The red one," he said, fearful.

“He hurt you, didn’t he?” Dib frowned softly. That was… difficult news, after seeing the condition he was in before he was repaired. He could already imagine what’d happened.

“I’m okay now! But you gotta come back!” Gir begged. 

"I can't go back there, Gir!" Dib insisted. "He wants to kill me! You heard him!"

"We gotta fix it!! It's all wrong!" Gir grabbed onto Dib's leg. "Please!!!"

"Things just aren't good anymore, Gir," Dib murmured with a sigh. "Things have been bad for a long, long time. The best thing you can do now is stay with Zim, okay? You're his robot. He needs you around."

Staring up at Dib for a long moment, the tiny robot’s posture seemed to deflate. And, after just a moment, Gir sat on the floor, defeated.

Dib fretted for a moment, his heart aching for him. Before, he hadn't been terribly concerned, but it hit him just how hard it must be to wake up to things being so horrible. He'd had so long to adapt to it, but Gir wasn't given the same opportunity. 

"...Things--- won't be so bad for you," Dib murmured, trying to reassure him, even just a bit. "Zim is the Tallest now! That means you're pretty high-ranked, too, you know. You'll have an exciting life, I imagine."

Pouting, Gir turned away from Dib, glancing back at him to frown.

"...Oh, come on now," Dib sighed. "There's nothing I can do to fix this, Gir. It's out of my hands."

Gir attempted to hunch his tiny shoulders further up, in a tiny, defiant motion, but it didn't really work. Still, the gesture did add a bit of emphasis.

"What do you expect me to do?" Dib gave a light scoff of a laugh, a little disbelieving. "How am I supposed to fix this?"

"You gotta make up!" Gir insisted. "You didn't even try!"

"I was going to try, and then he threatened to kill me!"

"He do that all the time," Gir retorted, sassy.

"This time he's actually got the means to, though," Dib pointed out.

"He did before!" Gir laid on the floor on his back.

"Well, he actually plans to this time," Dib muttered. "And god only knows when he's going to turn up and do it."

"He not comin'!" Gir declared. "He stayed behind."

"...He did?" That actually gave Dib pause, leaving him looking confused and, admittedly, a little troubled. That wasn’t what he’d expected at all. "Why?"

"I'unno."

"...Are you going to lay on the floor until I go talk to him?"

"Mmhmm!"

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Dib finally let out a resigned breath. "Ugh. Fine."

“You’re gonna stay!?” Gir brightened immediately, even if he didn’t budge off of the floor.

"I’m not making any promises. C'mon," Dib urged him, standing with a grunt of effort before scooping up the tiny robot. He’d never been so easy to buckle under the pleas of another, especially in such a high-danger situation, but… for a familiar face who’d done nothing wrong, it hit him in an old, sentimental part of his heart, for better or worse. "We'll see what we can do while we're up there. Just... don't get your heart set on anything."

Gir sighed forlornly, flopping over, but allowed himself to be carried.

Hauling the small robot back up to the audience chamber, avoiding meeting the gazes of any Irkens who were milling about, Dib stopped in the doorway. He immediately tensed - he wasn't sure if he should actually go back in there, lest he risk his life for the whims of a tiny, sentimental robot.

Regardless, though, he sat Gir down, patting his tiny back gently and nodding towards the room. It was time for him to go back in, if nothing else.

Gir crossed his arms. He wasn't going in without Dib.

Dib furrowed his brows and frowned deeply, gesturing ahead of them. No, get in there!

Gir crossed his arms harder. You first!

A huff, and a roll of his eyes, with a gesture at himself, and then ahead of them. Fine. He'll follow.

Gir still hesitated, eyeing Dib suspiciously.

Dib let out a heavy sigh, and made a gesture at his chest. Crossed his heart. He wasn't going to leave, even as much as he wanted to. God only knows that Gir would catch up to him and whine again.

Satisfied at last, Gir trotted into the office.

And, begrudgingly, Dib followed behind him, the thunk of his boots hitting the floor breaking the heavy silence of the room.

Within, Zim sat at his desk. The rage and violence that had coursed through him mere moments before had drained from him. Instead, now, he looked sullen, broken.

For a long, heavy few moments, Dib was quiet, anger simmering from it's boil at the sight. That was... not what he'd anticipated seeing. Looking down to Gir, though, he knelt down, just enough to nudge him ahead, finally speaking. His own voice was gruff, tired, strained from the previous shouting match. "Go on, buddy."

"Master!" Gir called, quieter than usual, gentle.

At this, Zim looked up. He didn't even seem to care about Dib. "Gir!" He stood, then fell to his knees, scooping up his tiny companion. "Didn't I just tell you not to scare me like that?! You rotten little thing!"

"I was bringin' Dibbo back!" Gir insisted. "You guys gotta make up!"

At that, Dib didn't know what to say, simply standing from where he'd knelt down and watching on. He didn't know what to say - it wasn't as though he even remotely agreed that something like that was possible, as far as he could see.

Zim eyed Dib carefully, then looked back down to Gir. "I do not believe Dib wants to do that."

"You haven't exactly shown me that's something you'd want to do," Dib muttered. "Nor any reason to think it's possible, even."

Zim glared at Dib for a moment, then looked to Gir and sighed, standing. "I promised you answers in exchange for fixing Gir."

"You did," Dib agreed quietly.

With another long, hard look at Gir, Zim spoke at last. 

"...I got an announcement that Impending Doom II had ended," Zim began, clearly taking no joy in recounting the tale. "Without me. I--- had my suspicions, but I suppose I was simply in denial about the whole thing. I flew home to Irk in a great hurry, and begged the Tallest to tell me why this was happening, why everyone went home without me. They laughed. They said they could scarcely believe it took me a decade to understand. That they had exiled me. It was all a joke. That everything about my mission was fake, even my equipment. And then... Tallest Red, he... demonstrated."

Dib was silent, listening closely, a glance taken down to Gir. He had said the red one did something, and between the recollection and the damage Dib saw with his own eyes, a look of pity for Gir and of grim understanding rose to his face. "...I see. And... then?"

Zim's voice turned angry, bitter, and grim. "I showed them just how real my mission could be."

Dib grew a bit colder at that, the two of their demeanors contrasting so heavily it was practically as opposite as fire and ice. "And you saw it fit to take out the Earth and everyone on it to do so.”

"I lost myself to grief and anger," Zim replied, quieter now, the venom to his voice gone once again. "...Are you satisfied?"

"...It’s hardly what I’d thought it would be, after all these years, but I suppose I’ll have to be," Dib murmured. "...I wish--- you had, just--- I don't know." He paused, growing more sullen, as though an old grief was resurfacing. "I... just don't know."

"I can't take it back, Dib," Zim replied. "No matter how badly I wish I could."

"I know," Dib sighed. "I've known that for so long. I'd made peace with that years ago. ...I'd made peace with it thinking that you'd simply--- stabbed me and everyone else in the back for your Empire, though. Not as it really is. Not yet."

"I could never tell anyone else this, but you'd be a fool to think I don't regret it."

"...Not even with the Irken Empire under your control now? All the praise you've worked so long for?"

"Even still," Zim murmured.

"...Why have you been looking for me?" Dib asked, quieter this time.

"I haven't, despite what rumors may say. Not actively," Zim replied. "...I'd hoped you were still alive, though, for a number of reasons."

"...What--- were those reasons, Zim?"

Standing tall and proud with his arms behind his back, Zim sighed. "Well, to be quite frank, I had hoped you would come here to find me. And that you would either--- find the slim chance of resolving things with me, or kill me for what I’ve done."

Dib furrowed his brows, frowning gently, looking wrapped up in thought. "That is how this would end one way or another, isn't it? I..."

He’d come here with plans to, at the end of everything he’d needed, to kill him. That was part of the plan he’d discussed with Kork. Get his answers, get his closure, and stab him. Flee the planet immediately afterwards, and never look back. Finally put Irk and all the damage it had done behind him. 

He wasn’t in his 20’s with a crush, he was a decades-hardened traveler with an equally long grudge, who had only come here on an accident.

And yet, the perspective shift damaged that old, angry resolve. The knowledge that it hadn’t been a targeted attack. That there was remorse. That he’d been seeking retribution at the hands of the person he’d fought for so long. The face--- one that he’d been so attached to, but shoved that attachment aside--- no longer contorted with anger, but regret.

The heart still ached.

Dib let out a sigh and carding his hand into his hair. He’d fallen to silent thought, barely even knowing what to say, but finally, he spoke, his words quiet and wavering with uncertainty, as if he wasn’t sure this was the answer he was allowed to settle on. "I... want to resolve it. I've--- augh, I've been thinking about you for twenty fucking years. I would give anything for things to be fixed. But, I... I've hated you for those twenty years. I've thought you did that on purpose, all this time. ...I don't know what I'm getting at here. I don't know what to think."

"So, what, you think you can just--- forgive the monster that killed everyone you know?" Zim asked pointedly, raising a brow.

"I don't know!" Dib raised his voice a bit, staring at him for a mere skip of a beat, before faltering again. "I don't know. This used to be so clear-cut. You destroyed the Earth like you'd always planned, I was the unfortunate fugitive, and if we ever met, I would just--- get justice for everyone you killed. But... I..."

"But what?" Zim laughed bitterly, holding out his arms. "You and I have always been enemies. I destroyed everything you loved, killed everyone you know! And I'm here, with no guards, no ship, no armor, defenseless! You trusted me and I betrayed you! It's the logical end to our story!"

"It's... not that simple," Dib murmured. "It never has been that simple, though, has it?"

"What do you want from me, Dib?"

"...I don't know. Perhaps it would be best to just try to kill each other again."

"Then kill me, you idiot," Zim barked, bitter.

Dib narrowed his eyes back at him. He tensed, ready to stand upright again, to move. But in a matter of moments, that anger he'd tried to steel fizzled, and he slumped gently. 

"...I can't," Dib murmured, sounding broken, looking away from the Tallest and rubbing his face. "I can't do it. You're--- hahah. You're all that's left of what I had on Earth. How fucking stupid is that?"

"Very stupid," Zim replied quietly. But there was no malice or venom to his tone. Only misery.

"I'm not the--- unstoppable hero of the Earth I tried to be when we were younger, Zim," Dib muttered. "I'm just... a broken old man who can barely get his head out of the past, and scrape by on survival. I don't have the retribution you're looking for."

Zim laughed bitterly. "You know, ever since you arrived here, I have hated you every single day for not being Dib. I think I may be an old fool as well."

"I felt that hate, but just assumed it was because I was a human," Dib gave a bitter laugh of his own, shaking his head. "A couple of old fools bickering about almost nothing at all. I can hardly imagine the look on my face if you would've told my younger self that we'd wind up like this."

"And that ridiculous kiss the other day," Zim said, scoffing.

“I remember the one,” Dib joked. “It’s hard to forget someone kissing you, calling you disgusting, and kicking you out.”

"You  _ are _ disgusting."

" _ You're _ disgusting. And you made the first move. Which, I imagine, makes you the most disgusting of the two of us."

"I did not! You started it!" Zim bickered.

"You leaned in!" Dib protested. "That's starting it!"

"YOU'RE THE ONE WHO ACTUALLY KISSED ME!” Zim shouted, though there was no fury to it. Just loud overdramatics, uncannily similar to how he’d been before. “WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT!"

"I DON'T KNOW! BUT YOU SURE KISSED BACK! WHY DID YOU DO THAT!"

"BECAUSE YOU WERE KISSING ME!!! IT---- WOULD HAVE BEEN RUDE."

"THAT IS LITERALLY THE ONLY TIME EVER YOU HAVEN'T BEEN IMMEDIATELY RUDE ON PURPOSE!"

"SHUT UP!!!"

"Good lord," Dib scoffed, shaking his head a bit, though there was no true bitterness or anger behind it as there had been just a while ago. "You've gotten taller, but you've hardly changed at all!"

"Aww! You guys still love each other," Gir cooed. "Told you so!"

"Gir that is SLANDER," Zim snapped.

"Honestly outrageous!" Dib remarked. "Where would you even get that from us griping? We were always arguing, even back then!"

"You just said you smooched!!!"

"It wasn't--- the standard fare of kisses! And it was in the heat of the moment!" Dib protested.

"Exactly!" Zim agreed. "It wasn't a--- romantic kiss!!!"

"Yes it waaaaas!!!" Gir teased. "Master, remember when you told me that you wanted Mary to----"

With little hesitation, Zim scooped Gir up and clapped a hand over his mouth. "Gir. Don't."

Dib stared at him, glancing between the two for a moment, looking like he hardly knew what to think. This was incoherent rambling, but that was something Dib  _ definitely _ needed to hear. If nothing else, for blackmail, depending on what variety of stupid it was. "...Gir I am absolutely going to need you to tell me what you were going to say."

Gir happily continued to prattle through Zim's hand, completely unintelligible.

"Hm." Dib paused for a moment, before looking Gir's way. "Gir, try to eat his hand, would you?"

"DO NOT," Zim barked.

As requested, Gir gently nibbled Zim's fingers, looking very pleased with himself.

"That's not quite..." Dib furrowed his brows. "Alright, I know. Tell you what. You tell me what you were saying after you get out of his hand, and I'll find a way to replicate the old Earth taco recipe. I'm the last man alive who knows it, you know."

Gir gasped. "TACOS?"

"Oh for fuck's sake," Zim groaned.

"Sorry, Zim, I know this robot, and I know full and well you're not going to tell me what he was about to say," Dib remarked. "The sorry is a formality, by the way, I am not even remotely sorry."

"Why do you need to know so badly?!" Zim huffed.

“Curiosity kills. If I don’t know, I’m just going to assume the worst, and neither of us want that.”

"HE WANTS YOU TO GIVE HIM THE SHINY RING LIKE IN THE MOVIES!" Gir said quickly, before he could be stopped.

That gave Dib pause, practically stopping him in his tracks, his attention immediately moving back Zim's way. "...Wait, you wanted---?"

"NO!" Zim yelled.

"But he said---"

"HE'S LYIIIIING," Zim screeched.

"HE LIKED THE CHRISTMAS MOVIES WITH THE PLANT THAT MAKES YOU KISS!" Gir added.

"Wow, this is--- all very incriminating evidence, Zim," Dib pointed out. "And--- incredibly specific!"

"GIR HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME?!" Zim demanded, betrayed.

"Tacos!!!" Gir repeated. "You can have some too, Master!"

"THAT DOESN'T HELP ME, GIR."

"I'm fortunate to not have a robot to reveal my dark secrets," Dib replied, relatively calm, even despite the two bickering. There was an air of embarrassment to his demeanor, though--- maybe even a little flustered and blown away. "That's a you-problem."

Zim frowned deeply, looking a bit humiliated. "Fine. Laugh at me. Get it out of your system."

"It'd be, ah. ...Hypocritical. For me to do so," Dib muttered after a moment of thought.

"Oh, what, so you wanted to do all that ludicrous stuff?" Zim scoffed.

"Well, not particularly, since Christmas was an odd time of the year for my family," Dib explained, barely knowing how to put it. "But... considering that I tried and failed to have a fling last night because I couldn't get out of my own head, I'd say that--- I--- understand. For the most part."

"WH---WHO---" Zim sputtered, but cleared his throat. "It does not matter who. I--- Er. ...Things aren't... too different now?"

"I thought they were, which is precisely why I tried to have a fling," Dib let out a sigh. "But... it's... something that's stuck with me. Regardless of how time has changed things, it's something I haven't been able to shake."

Zim raised a brow. "You sure you don't just want to get me out of my armor so you can stab me?"

"If I wanted to stab you, I would have done so by now," Dib pointed out. "Crease under your chestplate would've made that very easy."

Zim scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Fine, you revolting, smelly beast. I will allow you the honor, provided you adequately appreciate it."

“I can still hardly believe this,” Dib murmured, still looking a bit blown away by the whole thing. “I mean, I did have intention to stab you before, after I got some closure, but this is… completely out of the realm of anything I could have ever guessed would happen.”

"This does mean something interesting for you, though," Zim said, grinning wickedly.

"What is that, precisely?" Dib furrowed his brows, puzzled, and almost a little wary. That look never meant anything good.

"You get to be my trophy mate."

"And I imagine that's something you'll never let me forget, huh?"

"The last of your species, from a planet destroyed by the Irken Empire, on the arm of the Tallest, who was the Invader who did it," Zim teased with an overdramatic flair about it. "My prized possession."

"You're not making a very good case for me to not change my mind about this, you know," Dib replied, half-joking. Something about the phrase "prized possession" made his stomach do a flip, though - and, unfortunately for the last few tatters of his pride, after all this, not in a bad way. "I don't intend to be some handsome exotic pet, you know."

"If you don't pretend to be one for public appearances there is absolutely no way I will be able to get away with it," Zim pointed out.

"Augh. You people and your appearances," Dib groaned. "Fine, fine. I'll deal with it, then."

"Then--- I suppose, after all these years..."

"...It's odd, isn't it? After everything, we're still... both here. Together."

"It is," Zim murmured. "I... will announce your attendance on the Imperial Tour."

"Well, I'll... probably need to go tell anyone expecting me back in the bunkers that I'll be absent," Dib agreed quietly. "Irmur isn't worried about it if he's getting money out of it, after all, but I have a long-time companion who I imagine would worry that I'd, ah. Gotten myself killed, haha."

"Do you need to go now?" Zim asked, grabbing Dib's hand.

"I---" Dib had started to say that he probably ought to get it out of the way, but the taking of his hand halted that in it's tracks at an instant. "...Well, not right now, I suppose! Just, ah--- before we leave."

"We'd be leaving tomorrow," Zim replied.

"Then I've got a whole day to do it, so there's no rush," Dib agreed. "I'll need to get something from my things tonight, of course, but that's all I'll need to do. You've got my full attention until then."

"Good," Zim seemed immediately relieved. "I would be loathe to lose your attention again."

"That so?" Dib asked, unable to help a quiet huff of a laugh. "Well, that's good, because now that I've made peace with the fact that I want your attention, it'd be a shame to lose that so soon."

"What shall I do with you?" Zim purred.

"Hm, hard to say," Dib teased, the tone leaving his heart skipping a beat. God, as much as he hated to admit it--- and probably never would out loud--- this was absolutely what he was missing the night prior. "You may want to let me give Gir that recipe before you consider anything too hard, though."

"Of course. Then we can eat when we're finished," Zim said wryly.

"Always planning ahead, huh?" Dib joked. He let his hand slide out of the clawed one, a note of reluctance to it, before he moved over to the desk, taking a small sheet of paper, a pen with a substance that wasn't quite ink, jotting out the instructions and passing them down to the tiny robot without any further delay. "There you are. You'll have to make substitutes, I imagine, but I'm sure you'll figure something out!"

"YAAAAY TACOS!!!" Gir took the paper delightedly, holding it up triumphantly. "I GOTTA GO TO THE STORE!"

"Aaaaand there he goes," Dib watched him trot out the door as fast as his small legs would carry him, lifting his brows. "No questions or anything. Just gone."

"He's perfect," Zim remarked, his tone fond.

"Didn't he used to take ages at the store?" Dib noted.

"He did.”

"Suppose that frees up your evening, then.”

"Let me show you to the Tallest's chambers," Zim purred, wasting no time with leading the way.

"Oh, I finally get to go in?" Dib teased, keeping pace along with him the entire way.

"Don't push your luck."

"No promises."


	7. A Brief Interlude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here's a few forewarnings going ahead in this chapter!
> 
> 1: this is almost purely a NSFW chapter - if you're looking to skip it, i've added a ^ again immediately after it, so if you CTRL+F and search for that, it'll skip you past it!
> 
> 2: since some of you seem to be first-time readers of mine and pink's work, dib is trans! why? because i'm trans and trans dudes also deserve to Get It! (i know that sort of thing isn't comfy for all trans dudes, though, so if that's the case, feel free to use the option above to skip past the nsfw also) 
> 
> 3: thank y'all so much for your patience with me ;; i've been going through the ringer w/ shoddy mental health and work on top of that, and i'm hoping to get back on the roll with more regular chapters soon!
> 
> thanks so much for reading, and i hope you guys enjoy!

Zim took Dib back to his room, this time allowing him past the threshold of the door into the large, lavish room. It was gigantic and covered in beautiful finery. Shimmering ombre fabric draped over the furniture and canopied the gargantuan bed. The blend of Irken aesthetics and opulence had a strange appearance, high class and industrial but still comprised of twisted metal and segmented bars, hard lines and unorthodox shapes, all in pink and purple and red.

"God damn," Dib let out an impressed whistle, looking around as he shrugged off his coat. "This is so much more than I expected it to be."

"Do you like it?" Zim asked, hands on Dib's shoulders from behind.

"It's--- extravagant. Hahah, I do like it, but I almost feel a little outclassed by it," Dib murmured, very welcome to the touches, his shoulders easing a bit at the touch. "It's a hell of a lot nicer than I've seen in a long time."

Zim rubbed his hands over Dib's back affectionately. "I haven't been able to get you out of my head in twenty years..."

Dib let out a content breath, letting his head lean back just a bit, basking in the contact. He'd been aching for it more than he realized. "I could say the very same, you know..."

"What say you we finish what we started yesterday?"

"I was hoping you'd say that."

Zim reached up, pulling off Dib's jacket. "At long last I can take this ridiculous jacket off of you."

"Only for a matter of time," Dib teased, letting it fall off of him as Zim took it off, running his hands over Zim's chestpiece. "I'll need your help getting this off, of course..."

"Oh, it's a button," Zim remarked, pressing the black Z-shaped segment on his chest and causing the armor to pop right off and clatter to the floor, leaving him in the skin-tight under armor suit beneath.

"Oh! Well, I'll be damned," Dib lifted his brows, but moved his hands downwards to the odd skirted armor that Zim wore. True to his words, a similar button sat there, and with a press, it fell away and Dib scooted it aside, stepping in closer now that he could and running his hands over Zim's oddly-contorted sides. "There we are. Much better."

"The metal cuffs on my midsection doesn't come off," Zim pointed out. "You don't want them to."

"...Hm. That paints a horrifying mental image, I'll keep that in mind," Dib replied, making a light face at it, before returning his attention to Zim's face. Without the anger there, the hungry look they'd shared just the day before was exchanged again, and this time, Dib was the one who took the initiative to lean in.

Which meant that it was Zim's turn to meet him in the middle, which he gladly did, his hands taking hold of Dib's face by the jawline and pulling him in for a deep kiss.

Dib was quick to reciprocate, a breath escaping him as he meshed back into it. His own hands found Zim's hips--- odd, angular, very foreign, and that was something very exciting all on it's own.

Zim, however, was very much down to business, brusquely grabbing onto the hem of Dib's jeans and fumbling the button open.

It didn't take Dib very long to catch onto that, and he wasn’t even remotely opposed to getting with the program. He helped with shedding his own pants, before he moved his attention to Zim's under-armor, starting with the shirt. The second it was off, as well, he hooked his fingers into the leggings, fired up by Zim's motions and not wanting to waste any more time than they needed to.

Zim hurriedly peeled off the leggings, stumbling only a bit without his levitation device. Unavoidable, given how gangly he was. Next came his undershirt, revealing a rather pronounced chest and a number of surgical scars.

"Goodness," Dib murmured, brushing his fingertips over a few scars near to where he'd settled his hands. "Becoming a Tallest involves a bit of butchering, doesn't it?"

"A few changes need to be made, yes," Zim murmured. "Not now. I'll tell you later."

"Fair enough," Dib let out a breath of a laugh, taking his own moment take off his old shirt, revealing littered familiar scars of his own, and new ones from his times traveling mingled in with them. As soon as he was out of it, though, he returned his hands to Zim, brushing a hand up the side of his head, brushing his fingertips over his antenna. A light graze over the spot he was familiar with, sure, but nothing more than that yet. It was a light, affectionate gesture--- almost admiring, even.

Zim let out a pleased sigh, leaning into the touch, reaching up to run his own hands through Dib's hair. It was so soft… Everything about Dib was so soft. His hair, his skin, his gaze. For a species of harsh lines and stark edges, the touch of a human was so strange and enticing.

Dib let out a content breath, leaning in after a moment to kiss Zim's jaw, murmuring against it softly. "Want to go get a little more comfortable?"

"Mmm, yes," Zim agreed, moving to the bed and tugging Dib along.

Dib followed along gladly, allowing himself to gladly be pulled along--- until they got to the bed, of course, when it was his turn to pull Zim down into the bed with him.

Zim gladly fell on top of him, kissing him deeply on the lips before moving down to his jaw, his neck, his chest.

Dib's breath caught in his throat as the kisses moved downwards, the chilled air of the room with the warmer contact leaving his chest fluttering in the most absurd manner. Regardless, he brushed a hand over the top of Zim's head, humming pleasantly and speaking softly. "Bunch of scars there you recognize from the old days?"

"Oh, yes," Zim murmured. "I can show you precisely which ones were made by my hand."

"As if I could forget," Dib let out a light, content sigh. "I could more easily show you the new ones than recount the old ones."

"Then let me recount them for you," Zim purred, pressing a kiss to each one that he recognized.

"Gladly," Dib let out a breath, letting his head fall back against the plush bedding, relishing in each and every kiss that he received.

Zim worked his way down further and further, down to Dib's hips, setting a hand between Dib's legs and pawing at him through his boxers.

The touch was very welcome, Dib’s chest rising with a breath he took in at it, and a light, stifled groan rumbling in his throat. This was so much... softer than their last encounter. Actually exploring instead of practically battling, no bitter feelings boiling between the two... that alone was an addition of comfort that he didn't realize would be as pleasant as it was.

Zim, however, was caught up in feeling a bit desperate, wanting to touch more and more. He'd spent so long craving, needing, aching. So many nights he had lay alone in this enormous bed, making his own euphoria with mere images in his head, to finally have Dib in his bed was more than he could stand. He feverishly pulled Dib's underwear off, needing to see him.

Dib complied easily, lifting and arching his hips off the soft linens, letting his underwear be pulled from him and cast aside. He felt Zim's eyes on him, all over him, and he would've been happy to let him look if he didn't ache for the touches.

"Come here," Dib murmured, hushed, heated, with just a bit of urgency, sitting up on his elbows. "I need you up here for just a moment."

Zim raised his head as he was spoken to, tongue lolling halfway out already like he was about to go to town. "Eh?"

Oh, god, that sound. Some things never changed, did they? "Mm, perhaps, actually, I--- can wait a bit for a kiss. You'll just owe me a good one later."

"Suit yourself," Zim said, shrugging before burying his face between Dib's thighs with gusto. Slowly and gently, he felt Dib up with his tongue, learning his nooks and crannies, of which there were a delightful many.

"Ah---" Dib gasped, heat flaring in his core almost immediately. Irken tongues were ridged--- something that he vaguely recalled from his brief fling, and something that was amazing now. It took everything in him not to rock his hips into the contact, finding himself desperate for more with every passing second.

Zim gladly obliged without needing to be told, his hands caressing Dib's thighs as his tongue slipped inside of Dib, curling.

"Oh shit," Dib groaned, lifting a hand over his face, trying to keep himself together. His fingers digging into the sheets were a very clear indicator that he was not doing immensely well at keeping himself collected, especially as Zim's tongue brushed past a spot that made him cry out softly.

"Mm." Zim pulled his tongue out. "Don't want to push you too fast... but now I know how to find that later."

"Mmmh, good," Dib murmured, swallowing thickly. "I wouldn't want to--- wrap up so soon, anyhow. We just got started, after all..."

"Now, about that kiss..." Zim moved back up to meet Dib's face, kissing him deeply, the taste of Dib still on his tongue.

Dib met the kiss eagerly and deeply, mingling his tongue with the one that'd just been inside of him, a shuddering breath escaping him. As he pressed into the kiss, he also let his hand start it's own work, slipping between Zim's legs and rubbing softly, working to coax out the prehensile member and give him a little special treatment, as well.

Zim exhaled softly, the tendril easing out of its protective slit, fully lubricated and coiling around Dib's fingers playfully.

Dib took extra care as he brushed his fingers along it, letting the appendage curl around his fingers as he moved them. He was going to feel as much of it as he could, since it didn't seem like stroking was particularly viable, but he was determined to make due in other ways.

Zim groaned softly at the touches, pulling Dib closer. _"Please,"_ he whispered. One of the few times he'd ever said the word.

Dib was eager to comply, the word alone exciting enough to motivate him. Slowly and carefully, unfurling it from where it had curled, Dib swallowed thickly, guiding the appendage softly to his entrance, and grinding himself gently onto it.

Zim gasped softly, leaning back a bit and pulling Dib into his lap. His arms were surprisingly strong for how thin they were, and he was able to help Dib stay upright. "Nnn," Zim groaned. "That's... that's yours, Dib. Use it as you like."

"Mm, will do..." Dib murmured, staying steady for a moment and lowering himself against the member, gasping and groaning when it curled into him. He only needed a short moment before he was ready to go, rolling his hips gently at first, before starting a slow pace of raising himself up and rocking back down into Zim's lap, his breaths coming out in short puffs of air, and his eyes half-lidded, taking things slow to just enjoy the look on Zim's face as he went.

Zim let out heated breaths, holding onto Dib's hips tightly, and leaned in to kiss at the other man's collarbone. His hands smoothed up Dib's back, then dragged back down, leaving claw marks in their wake.

Dib gasped out, his back arching at the claws that dug into him, the heat in the pit of his stomach that'd tapered off for only a bit building up quickly once again. With well-placed movements and a steady pace, it started to seem more and more like this wasn't going to last nearly as long as he hoped it would--- perhaps the both of them had just been too deprived for too long.

Zim panted, rocking his own hips and nipping at Dib's shoulder. His brain felt on fire as he neared his own edge, growing frantic in his movements as heat built up between him and his former rival. 

"Nnngh, fuck, Zim," Dib let out a shuddering murmur, moving just a bit to break contact from his shoulder where Zim bit, tipping his face up to catch him in a fiery, deep kiss. He needed this. He needed Zim. More than anything else, right now, especially as the two picked up the pace a bit a bit further.

It was barely a moment before his climax hit him like a train.

A sharp gasp and a moan escaped him as a shudder rocked through his spine, his grasp on Zim's shoulders tightening and his insides clamping down softly around the other man as orgasm wracked through his body.

Zim gasped, his arms wrapping tightly around Dib and his prehensile erection curling with delightful tension as he spilled over inside of Dib. He shuddered and jerked, then relaxed, still clinging to Dib as if his life depended on it. For a long moment, he was silent, before he spoke up fondly, his tone teasing. "...Humans are gross."

Dib let out a breathy chuckle, not even so much as budging to part from him. The tension was easing into blissful afterglow, and with only a little breath when the tendril inside of him slowly slid out, still distinctly oversensitive from everything. "Well you, specifically... are gross."

"I have never done anything gross in my entire life besides this."

"That is just not true and you know it."

"Name one thing."

"8th grade. The meat-suit."

"That was _art."_

"It was horrible. And then the thing with the organs---"

“First of all,” Zim cut him off. "That was only gross because human organs are gross. And secondly, I really do not think that this is the time or place to be recalling… _that.”_

^

“Y’know what? Fair.” Dib snickered, finally moving off Zim's hips to lie beside him, taking a moment to let out a sigh and ease up. "...You ever would've guessed we'd end up like this?"

Zim mulled on the thought, his gaze drifting to the side. “I… we were close. Back on Earth, all those years we spent together as rivals, then as friends, then… something more. We came so close, and then…”

Dib frowned, fretting a bit at the look on Zim’s face, the sadness in his tone. “That’s true. No matter what the context was, we always felt strongly about each other,” he mused. "When I was younger, I had the most stupid crush in the world on you, you know. I was a wreck."

"Is that so?" Zim teased, grinning wickedly.

"Ugh, unfortunately," Dib heaved a sigh. "I don't even have to look at you to know you've giving me that look, you know."

"Eheheheh."

"Quit it. You're a menace."

"Make me."

"Is that a challenge?"

"If you want it to be."

Without another word, Dib shifted to roll over onto his side, catching Zim in an abrupt, intense kiss, parting after a moment and looking pleased with himself. "There we go."

Zim exhaled sharply as the kiss was broken. "...That will do."

"Excellent," Dib teased, brushing a hand over the top of his head. "I'm going to have to remember that for future uses."

"...Will you stay with me, Dib?"

"...Stay with you?"

"Here on Irk. ...Permanently."

"Oh, I... hm. I... hadn't considered that until now."

Zim immediately looked anxious, but nodded. "You are under no pressure."

"...I think--- I'd--- it's... something that I'm going to consider, since I've been traveling for so long, but I--- think I would be willing to do so," Dib started, quiet and contemplative. "I may just have to take some ventures out to satisfy that old wanderlust. But I have a... request. For a close friend of mine."

Zim tilted his head. "What's that?"

"I don't know if it's something she'd agree to, due to her being, ah. Vortian," Dib murmured. "But... if I could request her to stay, if willing, and support her in some way. She's gotten me through a mess of situations that would have certainly killed me, and I owe her for pressing me to come visit you this evening, as well."

"If she wants, I could find permanent work for her here," Zim agreed. 

"I'll pitch it at her, then," Dib smiled, a gentler one this time. "...Thank you, Zim."

"Of course," Zim agreed

"...I figure, then, if you aren't troubled by me traveling out every now and then, that... I could stay," Dib replied, quietly and decidedly. "You're the only one I have left in the universe from home, so... I'm not particularly inclined to leave anymore."

"I travel all the time," Zim offered. "The Imperial Tour is just one of the reasons I leave the planet. There will be plenty of opportunities to go aboard the Massive and travel as far as the Empire reaches. Which is very, very far."

"You know? I may have to come along for that, then," Dib mused, lifting his brows with interest. "If there's political affairs that are solely for you, I imagine I could take some of that time to scrounge around and delve a little deeper into the exploration. That may very well be an ideal set-up, then!"

"I can take you to all the most incredible places!" Zim enthused. "You can travel in luxury, I can give you anything you desire."

"You intend to spoil me, is that it?" Dib teased, fond.

"Of course. I have to spoil you rotten to counteract the fact that I will torment you constantly," Zim said, playing along.

"Ah, so some things truly haven't changed," Dib snickered.

"Truly!" Zim teased laughing and kissing Dib's cheek. "I've missed you."

"I've missed you too, for better or worse," Dib let out a content sigh, brushing his hands over the top of Zim's head. "I've missed missing you, and not just... being stuck hating you without knowing the truth."

Zim sighed. "I'm... glad I finally got to tell you."

"Yeah, me too," Dib agreed quietly. "Shame that I'm the only one left for you to explain it to, but... I'm glad I could know. And make amends."

"You're the only one I care to answer to anyway," Zim murmured.

"That so?" Dib cracked a light smile, pressing a small kiss to his forehead. "...Ah--- completely aside, but... do you happen to know what time it is? I can hardly remember when we got in here."

Zim grunted, sitting up to check the clock. "About... 7, Irken time."

"Oh, shoot. I'm nearly late," Dib muttered, sitting up a bit. "I've got a nightly routine I've got to get to, but I can--- come back after, if you'd like. It takes only thirty minutes."

"Hmm? What are you doing?" Zim asked.

"I've had a nightly routine I've done since everything," Dib explained. "Just--- a call I make."

"...I see," Zim murmured. "Take your time."

Dib gave a small nod, starting to gather his clothes and get dressed. After a moment of thought, he looked back Zim's way, contemplative, before he spoke again. "...Would you like to come with me?"

"Only if you want me to," he replied.

"I wouldn't mind the company," Dib murmured. "Might give you a chance to meet Kork, as well, since I've got to go get my things briefly."

Zim shrugged. "It takes me too long to get dressed."

"Well, how about this," Dib offered. "I have to go back to the bunkers, but in thirty minutes or so, I could meet you on one of the balconies for it when the time comes? That way you've got time to relax and get dressed."

"...You're pretty insistent about this, aren't you?"

"Well--- no, I just--- suppose I'm... just not terribly fond of the idea of being apart yet."

Zim sighed, giving Dib a soft kiss. "Go. I don't want to interrupt your ritual."

"Alright," Dib replied, pressing one more kiss to Zim's temple, before moving to leave. "I'll be back shortly!"

Zim watched him go, then let out a long sigh. He wanted to come along and be supportive, he really did, but... he felt he didn't belong.

Making the nightly trek back to the bunker where he and Kork stayed, he returned with renewed energy, pleased to find her there already. Before he made the call, he had very important things to discuss, and wanted to waste no time discussing it. 

"Kork! I'm glad you're here," Dib greeted her with a smile, taking a seat on the side of her bed. "Feel free to say no, but, after everything this evening, I have an offer for you that would set you up for life."

Kork looked up from her tablet. "Hmm? What kinda offer?"

"Alright, so," Dib trailed off, looking for how to begin. He knew Kork, though --- skirting around subjects would only frustrate her, after all, and that was not the best way to pitch things to her. "What would you say if I told you you've been offered permanent, high-paying work here?"

Kork’s face wrinkled with distaste. "Uh. Why?"

"Well, I've... been offered to stay," Dib replied quietly. "And you're my closest friend. I made it very clear that if I were to even consider it, that you were to be given the same offer. Nothing less."

"You were offered to stay?! And you _want_ to?!"

"...Zim and I--- talked. I wasn't privy to the full story, and... we made a truce. And I know what you're thinking, that this is a horrible idea, but---"

"A truce?! With an Irken?! What happened to stabbing him!"

"It didn't work out that way! And, hear me out--- we could really bring about some change! I have history and influence here! With enough needling, I could get him to release control of Vort, I'm sure of it!"

"It's not about that!" Kork threw up her hands. "You have no idea what I've been through, Dib!"

"You've never gotten around to telling me!" Dib protested.

"Listen----" Kork let out a sharp breath. "I'll--- think about it."

"Don't feel obligated to agree," Dib told her, gentler this time. "I care about you very deeply, you know, and--- if it'd be too much to stay, I understand. But... I'd hate to lose having you around, and, well. If there's an Irken who did something, and there's vengeance to enact, I'm in a position now where I would be very able to help with that."

Kork let out a deep breath, clearly not wanting to discuss it. "Did you at least fuck him?"

"Oh, absolutely," Dib replied with a confident nod.

"And you didn't run away from him like a fucking moron?"

"Only once, and that was under threat, but I came back and fixed it."

Kork sighed, patting his arm. "Good. You jackass."

"I am a jackass, but at least I've gotten it under control," Dib teased, giving her a gentle nudge.

"I think," Kork mused, "that you should get permanent work for the whole crew."

Dib blinked, seeming to mull on that for a moment, before giving a nod. "You're right. And I bet you I know exactly how to do it."

"Suck his dick!" Kork declared delightedly, throwing up her arms. Her solution to everything, clearly.

"No!" Dib snorted and laughed, giving her a little, playful shove. "I'm not going to suck his dick because you tell me to! I'm just going to talk to him! That's Plan B."

"Do both!"

"What if the first one works? I can just get recreational dick, you know."

"Then suck his dick for fun!!"

"I might at some point, but I sure as hell am not telling you about it!"

"You're ruining my life."

"I am not. You love me."

Kork cackled, shoving him lightly. "Not anymore. Go talk to your dad and sister! You're late."

"Not anymore? Kork, you break my heart," Dib teased, but got up, getting his things. "Coming with me tonight?"

"If ya want," Kork said. "I'm surprised you didn't invite your boyfriend."

"Mentioned it to him, of course, but he wasn't interested," Dib replied. "Besides! Some things he won't ever get quite as well as you do, quite frankly."

"Why wasn't he interested?" Kork got up, following him to their usual spot.

"Not sure. Said it'd take too long for him to get ready, that he didn't feel like he needed to, that he didn't want to interrupt my 'ritual'," Dib replied. "It's hard to say, but I'm not all too worried about it, I suppose."

Kork scoffed. "He doesn't deserve to talk to them anyway."

"Hah! They'd probably agree with you," Dib remarked with a chuckle, plopping down on the roof as they always did. "Well, here's hoping they don't decide to answer this time to tell me I'm an idiot!"

Kork took a seat, smiling, happy to listen to Dib prattle away at the stars.

And so he did, telling the empty radio station the updates of his life, his plans for the future, even playfully bickering with Kork as he went on. As always, there was no response. But, as always, he felt better for it. 

* * *

Somewhere, deep out in the reaches of space, though, an old radio crackled to life in a cargo hold, jostled by a small thump against a tiny asteroid. 

"...shouldn't hold y--- t---- much long---- odnight, you tw---s is Dib Membrane, signing off---"

A strange bug-like alien, looking like an iridescent wasp, who'd been shuffling through the cargo bay to find something, froze. Multiple hearts in her carapace stopped at that name. Perhaps she wasn't as familiar with the first name, the strange name only whispered among those she knew in quiet grief, but she knew that last name very well. 

And, practically fluttering to her feet, she rushed into the main lobby of the large ship she was aboard, calling out desperately and loudly. 

"PROFESSOR! GAZLENE! I--- I FOUND SOMETHING!"


End file.
